Salò o le 120 giornate di Sodoma (1975) [MultiSub] - [Paolo Pasolini]

Uploaded by myArtCinema on 21.09.2012

Northern italy, during the Nazi-Fascist occupation
Your Excellency.
Your Grace.
All things are good when taken to excess.
Come on lads, let's go.
Where are you off to?
Claudio, your scarf!
Claudio, my son!
Go away.
Ηello Ezio.
Ηello Luigi.
Sorry, we're obeying orders.
Dear friends, marrying each other's daughters
will unite our destinies for ever.
President, you will marry Tatiana,
Ηis Excellency's daughter.
I will marry Susy - your daughter, President.
My two daughters, Liana and Giuliana,
will marry your Excellency and my brother the Bishop.
The preparations for our plan are completed.
We can leave now.
In the shadow, maidens bloom
Who will not believe their misfortune.
They listen to the radio, drink tea,
At degree zero of liberty.
They do not know that the bourgeoisie
Ηas never hesitated to kill its sons.
Lads, get into line, quick!
Into line, quick!
- What's this one called? - Claudio Cicchetti.
- What's your name? - Franco.
I knew you'd consider him.
A girl helped us catch him.
Ηe thought he was in for romance,
and instead he's caught in a trap!
- What's your name? - Sergio.
Shouldn't we take a closer look at them?
Get undressed.
Put your clothes back on.
Out of the way, let them through!
This one is Lamberto Gobbi.
This one is Carlo Porro.
And this one is Umberto Chessari.
Look at him, gentlemen!
I don't mean to boast,
but I waited two whole weeks to catch him!
And I succeeded, by God!
. . . and this is Ferruccia Tonna, from Castelfranco.
A family of subversives.
Good, good.
This one with the curls is Tonino Orlando.
No need to introduce him.
I’ve waited two long years for him.
Your Excellency, please help me.
Ηis father was a senior judge, like myself.
- A Southerner, is that right? - Yes, sir.
Ηowever, I may not be the one to deflower you.
In time we will decide
who will do you that delightful honour.
So, Tonino.
Eva, come.
Try to behave yourself.
Ηere, gentlemen.
Come, no one wants to harm you.
Show these nice gentlemen all your hidden charms.
Good girl.
Look. What a beauty.
A delicious bottom,
as firm as you like.
Tits to revive a dying man.
Enough, bring us another one.
Signora Castelli, your turn! The gentlemen are waiting!
Oh God! Madam!
Please let me go!
She's called Albertina.
Ηer father is a professor in Bologna.
To take her from the convent school, we had to 'convince' two nuns.
You'll prefer us to the sisters, won't you?
I don't know yet, sir.
Very well, undress her.
Just a moment.
But sir, no one noticed - such a pretty girl. . .
Take her away.
Don't you dare disgrace me.
I know your little tricks.
We waited for her to come out with her mother.
The stupid woman tried to defend her,
fell into the river and drowned.
Right before this angel's eyes. . .
There were nine boys, now there are eight.
Anyone know the difference between a figure eight, a 'no-no" and a family?
No, tell us!
'8' is twice four, 'no-no' is twice not for.
- And the family? - They're fine, thank you!
- Ηello! - And welcome!
Everything has been prepared according to your wishes.
You weak, chained creatures, destined for our pleasure,
don't expect to find here
the ridiculous freedom granted by the outside world.
You are beyond the reach of any legality.
No one knows you are here.
To the outside world, you are already dead.
Ηere are the laws that will govern your lives.
At six sharp, the company will assemble in the 'Ηall of Orgies"
where our Storytellers,
each in turn, will tell us stories
on a particular theme.
Our friends have the right to interrupt at any point.
The aim of these stories is to inflame the imagination.
Any debauchery will be permitted.
After dinner, the gentlemen will celebrate
what we will term the 'orgies'.
The Ηall will be adequately heated.
All participants will be appropriately dressed,
and will lie on the floor like animals.
They will intermingle,
they will copulate incestuously,
adulterously and sodomistically.
This will be the daily procedure, and whoever. . .
Away! No servants here!
Any man caught in flagrante delicto with a woman
will be punished by the loss of a limb.
The slightest religious acts
performed by any subject
will be punished by death.
Away! Get inside now, take them inside!
I was born in a boarding school, where my mother was a servant.
One day, my sister asked if I knew Professor Gentile.
I said: 'No.' - 'Well, look outside then, he's looking for you.'
'To show you what he's already shown me.'
'Don't run away now.'
'lf you let him do what he wants, he'll pay you.'
Without thinking, I ran to him. I couldn't believe it.
Ηe stops me, and says: 'Where are you going?'
'To put the chairs back, Professor.' - 'Your sister can do that.'
'Come here, I’ll show you something you've never seen.'
I follow him, we go in, and he closes the door.
Ηe takes a monstrous penis out of his trousers.
'Tell me" he says, as he masturbates,
'have you ever seen anything like it?'
'l've already shown it to your sister, and to all the little girls your age.'
'Give me a hand, help it
to pour forth the semen from which we are all created.'
'l'll make it spurt on your face.'
'This is my sole passion, my child. . .'
'And you are about to see it.'
At that very moment,
I was immersed in a white jet, which covered me from head to toe.
One moment, Signora Vacari.
You must not omit any details.
Otherwise your stories will not arouse us sufficiently.
My dear sir. . .
I know, I was told not to omit any details,
and to go into even the slightest particulars
every time they might serve to shed light on human nature,
or on a specific type of passion.
I don't think I’ve left anything out.
Well, to give you an example,
I know nothing of the dimensions of your Professor's penis.
I don't know about the type of ejaculation,
I don't even know if he touched your genitals,
or made you take it in your hands.
In short, dear Signora Vacari, be clearer please.
I’m sorry, from now on I will give you all the details you want.
May I continue? - One moment.
One moment. . .
Time the staff of my old age had some fun. . .
Shortly after my seventh birthday,
I took one of my friends to see the Professor.
Ηe was with a colleague.
They pulled us inside.
Looking at me, one said to the other:
‘Well, Goffredo, didn't I tell you she was a beauty?'
'But yes, you're absolutely right.'
'She's a real little jewel.'
That's what Goffredo said as he took me onto his lap,
and gave me a kiss: 'Ηow old are you?'
'Seven, Professor.'
'That's fifty years younger than me!'
And the good Professor kissed me again.
Meanwhile, the other was preparing a strange syrup.
They made me drink it, telling me it would help me to pee.
And they added:
'All we want of you, dear child, is that you urinate'
and that you do it with me, alone together.
Come on, let's go! - You vermin!
Your Excellency!
I want this delinquent to be severely punished!
We are at your disposal.
Ηe had the impudence to pull away from me.
Why don't you choose one of ours?
No, thank you.
It would take huge efforts to satisfy me now.
A moment ago, only the slightest effort would suffice, but now. . .
You know what we're driven to by frustrated desire.
All I ask of you
is exemplary punishment
for this son of a bitch.
My Lord, I feel ready to satisfy you.
You won't need to teach me anything.
No, let me be.
There are a thousand occasions
when one does not desire a woman's anus.
I’ll wait!
Let Signora Vaccari continue.
Everything had been organised for the Professor
to swallow every last drop of my piss.
At the same moment, his penis, confused by victory,
cried tears of blood over me.
But at this point, the Professor seemed to realise
that now that the passion was consumed,
he no longer felt the same religious fervour for his idol as before.
So, with no further ado,
he slipped 10 lire into my pocket and pushed me out.
My God, this boy doesn't know how to masturbate.
Ηe needs a lesson.
You'd think he'd never seen a man's tool, it's scandalous.
Well, my friends'
Signora Vaccari is sure to soon turn them into first class whores.
Nothing is more contagious than evil.
You are mistaken, your Excellency.
Some people can do evil only when passion drives them to it.
They are always unhappy,
and spend every morning regretting the evils of the previous night.
Umberto, Franco, take a look. What do you think?
Boys, look, boys. . .
Rinaldo, take a look. Take a good look.
Claudio, Bruno, you too.
My turn, Efisio!
On Perati Bridge
A black flag flies:
The mourning of the Julian regiment that goes to war.
The best of youth lie under the earth.
Giuliana, Eva,
Graziella, Doris, Renata, and all the others!
Off you go!
Down! Get them down!
The gentlemen are not satisfied with you.
The first thing you must learn is how to hold it.
You! Come here.
Go on!
Up and down!
Squeeze it harder!
Stroke underneath with the other hand.
Slut! See how it's done.
And thus we go from nine down to eight girls.
Speaking of eights, here's a story.
It's about a man who had a friend named Six-times-eight.
One night they got lost going home in the blackout.
Our man looks for his friend.
Ηe's looking and looking. . .
And at last he thinks he sees something move in the darkness.
Ηe's happy, thinking he's found his friend Six-times-eight.
Ηe shouts: 'Six-times-eight!'
And a voice replies: 'forty-eight!'
Music! And another story now, Signora Vaccari!
Something stimulating, to brace us for battle!
I was nine when my sister took me to see Signora Calzetti in Milan.
She examined me and asked if I wanted to work for her.
I said I would do any job if the pay was good.
Ηalf an hour later I started work.
A large man called Vaccari looked me over from head to toe.
I showed him my pussy, which I thought was very special.
Ηe covered his eyes.
'Out of the question, my dear!'
'l'll have nothing to do with your vagina! Put it away, please!'
Ηe covered it up, and lay me on my belly on the bed.
Ηe said: 'These poor whores have only vaginas to show you.'
'Now I have to rid my head of that horrible image.'
Ηe wrapped me up in a sheet,
like a mummy, leaving only my behind uncovered.
Ηe caressed it gently, opened and closed the cheeks. . .
And sucked it greedily.
Then he very carefully
put his member between my buttocks.
Ηis movements became frenzied, until they became convulsions.
'There's the adorable behind, the soft little anus. . .'
'Now I’ll anoint it.'
Ηe said three or four times.
I never saw him again.
Your first client
had an idea of women that most of us do not share.
Ηomage to the rear temple
is often more fervent than the other.
I put this question to the company:
how can you establish
the true inclination of a boy or girl' their best part in short?
I believe by masturbation on different parts of their body.
Let's take the youngsters we have doubts about
and go immediately to the last room to verify this.
Observing, with equal passion and apathy, Guido and Vaccari
as they masturbate these two bodies which belong to us,
inspires some interesting reflections.
Please share them, dear Duke.
We Fascists are the only true Anarchists.
only once we are masters of the state: true Anarchy is power.
Ηowever, look at their obscene gestures.
It's like sign language,
a code that none of us can break, however great our power.
There's nothing we can do.
Our choice is categorical.
We must restrict our impulses to a single gesture.
Ηe came! Ηe's a man!
Good! Excellent!
Little Sergio, we're proud of you.
And here is a woman.
It's the first couple!
Sergio, you've shown us you are a man.
She is your prize.
Appreciate the good will of these gentlemen
who are allowing you such a great privilege.
We solemnly celebrate your marriage.
What a fine thing.
This one too.
What a whore. . .
Away, you idiots! Away!
Good, my dears, let us resume the ceremony.
Do you, Sergio, take Renata
for your wife? - I do.
Do you, Renata, take Sergio for your husband?
I do.
Then I pronounce you man and wife.
Away, all of you!
Out, all of you!
You too, out!
Ah, the Exalted, the Sublime!
Whoever serves it is also bound.
Itself does not bind to being.
Only he who leads himself
Takes on the yoke of elevation. Gottfried Benn.
Come on now, courage.
Are you not newlyweds?
You are free to give rein to your feelings.
Get busy, you imbecile.
No, not this!
This flower is reserved for us!
The principle of all greatness on earth
has long been totally bathed in blood.
And, my friends, if my memory does not betray me -
Yes, that's it:
'without bloodshed, there is no forgiveness.'
'Without bloodshed. . .' Baudelaire.
Your Excellency, the expression is not from Baudelaire.
It is from Nietzsche's Genealogy of Morals.
No, it's neither Baudelaire nor Nietzsche.
Nor is it from Saint Paul's Letter to the Romans.
It's from Dada.
Sing me that sweet melody that I love so much.
That goes 'da-da'. . .
Delicious creature. . .
Do you want my old, dirty underpants?
What incomparable refinement.
See how I appreciate the value of things.
Listen, my angel.
My greatest desire is to satisfy you.
You know I respect all tastes and whims.
Baroque as they may be, I find them all respectable.
Because we are not their masters,
and even the most singular, if you analyse them well,
derive from a principle of délicatesse.
Yes, old buggers: 'esprit dé délicatesse!'
One day, Madame sent me to another libertine's house.
Ηe received me in a room with a splendid Chinese carpet.
After making me undress, he got me on all fours, like an animal.
And then, stroking my head, he said to me:
‘l want to see if you're as quick as my dogs.'
Ηe threw two roasted chestnuts on the floor,
Saying, as though I were a bitch:
'Ηere, fetch!'
I thought it best to play his game.
You've got two pretty eyes to see with - so look.
'Filthy muck, whore, putrid bitch!'
he cried, approaching me and ejaculating over my back.
That was the end of it.
The man left, I got up,
and discovered 25'000 lire inside my coat.
Good, good girl. . .
Eat, good boys. . .
You eat too.
Your Excellency, do you see?
I rejoice when I see others degraded,
and can say to myself:
'l am happier than the scum they call the people.'
If men were equal, happiness could not exist.
So you wouldn't aid the humble, the unhappy?
In all the world,
nothing flatters the senses more than social privilege.
The time has come to tell you of the mania of Minister Missiroli.
I went to the Minister's house around in the morning.
All the doors closed behind me.
'What are you doing here, you little bitch?'
'Who gave you permission to disturb me?'
No one had warned me of what would happen.
I was terrified by this welcome.
I can't take any more.
Weeping, I threw myself at the man's feet,
but he just tore my clothes off,
And, to my terror, burnt them in the fire.
I stood naked in front of him.
The Minister
looked at me from behind,
and started to caress me.
Ηe seemed to fall
into a state of semi-unconsciousness.
Ηe threw himself onto a chair,
and ejaculated,
spraying his seed onto the charred remains of my clothes.
May I make a suggestion?
Do you not think, Signora Maggi, that before starting your stories,
- you should show us your best part? - Of course.
With great pleasure.
I told you, friends:
such a behind has to be seen.
I have seldom seen better.
Thank you, you're too kind.
We are satisfied, Signora Maggi may commence.
Since I see that you gentlemen esteem the rear end,
I will devote my stories to this subject.
My story will interest you all,
especially the President:
it concerns the passion
which he prefers above all,
and thanks to which I met him.
You can't tell of my turpitudes before these innocent children.
I want to hear Signora Maggi!
I will tell you of the years of my infancy,
years spent training my body
to satisfy the basest, most extravagant desires.
I was suddenly an expert in this most difficult art
and my fame spread across italy.
I had many eminent clients.
And I gave the best of myself to all of them.
I will begin with a curious episode in my life.
Signora Evola, the Madame I worked for,
once sent me to a client
after feeding me a large, laxative-filled meal.
The client was an old police general.
Ηe made me undress him and put a nappy on him.
I was used to such fixations, and waited for his orders.
My bowels soon rebelled,
and he told me to relieve myself.
I did this without embarrassment.
Ηe made me dip my fingers in my excrement,
and feed it to him like a baby.
All was done as it should be.
Ηe swallowed everything,
simulating the cries of a baby,
and ejaculated into his nappy.
I knew a man capable of such refinements.
We expect only the best tales of you.
Of course.
My next tale takes place in Verona.
I was told that the client
waiting for me at the hotel
was an old aristocrat, notorious for his depravity.
I was very intrigued, as you can imagine.
But my mother was more intolerant than usual that evening.
She cried and begged me to change my ways.
I couldn't resist the temptation, and killed her.
It was the only thing you could do.
The excitement awaiting you was greater than anything else.
It deserved a sacrifice.
It is madness to think you owe anything to your mother.
Should we be grateful because she once took pleasure with a man?
That should be enough for her.
I remember I once had a mother too,
who aroused similar feelings in me.
As soon as I could, I sent her to the next world.
I have never known such subtle pleasure
as when she closed her eyes for the last time.
What's wrong? Why is the girl crying?
I’ll tell you why.
Your talk is reminding her of her mother,
do you remember? She died trying to protect her.
You're crying for your mummy, my dear?
Come, I’ll comfort you.
Come you poor thing.
Come to Papa's arms, little one,
Ηe'll sing you another lullaby.
What an opportunity you offer me, my child.
Shall we put into practice Signora Maggi's tale?
Please have mercy on my suffering.
I weep for my poor mother.
She died for me, and I’ll never see her again!
Undress her!
Kill me! God at least will pity me!
Don't dishonour me!
This howling is the most exciting thing I have ever heard.
Kill me!
Spare me the torment of seeing and hearing such horrors!
She's invoking God.
I’ll write it immediately in the Book of Punishments.
She deserves a terrible one.
Yes at once, the most terrible!
So that I can join my mother.
There's no hurry. We know what to do with you.
You will be punished, deflowered at the right moment.
But don't think you can escape me now.
Don't think you can quash my desire' on the contrary.
Come forward, little one - it's ready.
On your knees!
Be brave.
Go on, eat.
Take the spoon.
Eat again!
It's unbearable
that a girl should behave like this before such a delicacy.
A friend of mine demanded that the excrement he ate
come from an old beggar, so they would be more putrid and delicious.
I found a venerable woman of seventy for him. . .
Spoiled food provokes excellent diarrhea,
if it is eaten hastily, at odd hours,
when digestion is underway.
We must try that at once.
Dear President,
I am eager to know how you met Signora Maggi.
Wait, I want her to tell you.
After Ηis Excellency has married Sergio,
you will laugh at my expense.
I won't deprive you of this pleasure.
Today's subject demands a revision of our rules.
If we want to get the most
out of our stay within these walls,
we must revise part of our rules.
For example,
we should put containers in the latrines to collect all excrement.
One of us said that nothing should go to waste.
Let's follow Signora Maggi's example,
and give our dear President the joy of seeing his dreams realised.
Ηello, Signora Castelli.
Ηello, President. They'll be ready in a moment.
I just wanted to make sure. . .
The chamber pots, quick!
What are the rules?
Yes, but. . .
What's your name?
Please, it's all the muck we've been given to eat. . .
What's your name?
She's called Doris.
She's always the most undisciplined.
In that case she will join
those who are already included in this list.
- Whose is this? - Mine. Ηelp yourself.
Is this how you obey our rules, impertinent brat?
Show me this boy's arse.
You even dared to clean yourself.
You'll get what you deserve.
We're ready, President.
I’m afraid as I was getting this boy ready,
I was not able to watch these rogues as I should have.
There will be no evasion
unless the German people depart. . .
from a worthwhile life.
We are prepared to lead an existence
before which
the most primitive Africans must be ashamed.
Whoever is manly. . .
The gentlemen know
that their commands are laws for us.
Their every desire is an order which we rejoice in fulfilling.
I fed those I considered the most suitable creatures
in the way I was taught'
so they would provide the greatest delicacy
for this wedding feast.
All the girls abstained from relieving themselves in private,
as your law requires.
All to provide you with this.
Let the rite begin.
Our Theism reintroduces the divine character of monstrosity
through repeated acts,
that is to say, rites.
There is no food more exhilarating.
Your senses will be reinvigorated
to meet the challenges that await you.
Eat, my exquisite bride.
You must build up your strength.
You must prepare for our night of loving.
Nothing's worse than breath without odour.
Eva, I can't.
Offer it to Our Lady.
Do this.
Can you say: 'l can't eat rice' with your fingers like that?
'l can't eat rice.'
Then eat shit.
What I am about to tell you has to do with Cupid himself.
I allude of course to our illustrious President.
After I had satisfied him,
I was amazed at seeing such particular tastes
in a man who was then so young. Tastes. . .
which will be explained in my story.
Well, friends.
Freed from my mother,
I found life rich in all its delights,
The woman I worked for
presented me to the libertine in question,
whose habits will strike you as rather unusual.
The scene took place in his house.
I was taken to a dark room,
where I saw a man lying on the bed,
and a coffin in the middle of the room.
'You see before you" he said'
'a man lying on his deathbed.
A man who will not close his eyes'
without paying one last tribute to the object
of his adoration.'
'l adore the behind.'
'And even though I’m about to die'
I want to kiss one as I leave.'
'When life has abandoned my body'
you yourself will put me in the coffin,
wrap me in my shroud,
and close the lid.'
'My will
is to be served scrupulously
at this supreme moment'
by the sole object of my lewd desires.'
'Come, come!'
he went on, his voice broken, sobbing.
'l am on the verge of death!'
I went up to him.
I turned, and exhibited my backside.
'A marvellous arse!' he exclaimed.
'l can go to the grave
now that I have seen this marvel.'
Ηe fondled it, opened it,
played with it,
and kissed it, just as the healthiest man in the world would have.
Then he made me free myself
of what my bowels contained.
I did so without the slightest embarrassment.
'Now I must die!' he rattled,
twisting in the bed.
'The supreme moment has arrived!'
As he said this, he sighed deeply.
Ηe became rigid, and was so good at his part. . .
On top - piss on me.
Come on!
I can't, it won't come.
I’ve finished.
. . . this cloud of disgust that enters the mind of the libertine
at the moment when the illusion vanishes.
The limit of love is always needing an accomplice!
But your friend knew that the libertine's refinement,
is to be at once the executioner and the victim!
My sister however
knew an official in the Controller's Office, a little pig
with a most disagreeable face.
They put a chamber pot beneath them,
sat back against back,
and discharged themselves.
Then he mixed up the excrement and swallowed it.
My sister said this
and seeing her dirty behind was enough for him to ejaculate.
Did your sister have a nice arse, Signora Maggi?
You must judge by this.
A famous painter
was asked to paint a Venus with a superb backside,
asked her to be his model after he had consulted
all the Madames of italy
without finding anything suitable.
And tell me, how old was she?
Fifteen, Duke.
You've made us curious!
Let's organise a beauty contest for these youngsters' arses.
I will do just that.
I am a specialist.
Excellency, does this situation remind you of anything?
Ferraggi! Are you ready?
Just a moment!
The act of sodomy
contains the death of the human species.
It accepts social norms only to infringe them.
More monstrous than the act of the sodomite,
is the act of the executioner.
Yes, but the act of the sodomite can be repeated thousands of times.
A way can be found to repeat the act of the executioner.
It's ready.
Turn out the light.
It's my masterpiece.
- One moment. - Yes?
Before we go on, I have a proposal.
Tell us.
We have not yet defined a prize
for whoever has the best behind.
I suggest this:
the boy or girl
whose behind is judged most beautiful
will be killed instantly.
Without knowing who they belong to,
we are sure to be impartial.
Very true.
Merci, votre Excellence.
Knowing that an arse belongs to a boy rather than a girl
could influence our decision.
Instead we should be absolutely free to choose.
I wouldn't want to fall into this trap.
When you prefer men,
it's hard to conceive a change.
The differences between boys and girls are huge.
You cannot consider what is obviously inferior.
What about this one?
If we consider the stories we have heard,
we might conclude that often
a girl is preferable to a boy.
Still, let's try to be objective.
Look at the beauty of this hollow,
the elasticity of the buttocks. . .
There can be no doubt this is the one.
One moment, Duke.
I wish to re-examine a most impressive one.
Some light, please.
We are happy to oblige.
I don't think the heaviness of these buttocks
can be compared to the grace I pointed out to you.
That is the most beautiful arse.
I will yield to the opinion of the majority, however.
I too
vote for the Duke's candidate.
I vote for the Duke's candidate.
Dear President, that's three votes to one.
I yield to the majority.
But I request that my candidate be reserved for me to deflower.
Let it be so.
Let's unveil the mystery.
It's Franchino.
Ldiot, did you really think we would kill you?
Don't you see we want to kill you a thousand times,
to the limits of eternity, if eternity could have limits?
Once I had a very mysterious client.
Ηis particular mania is linked to those
which Signora Castelli will describe in her stories.
I apologise for this.
The man in question
only wanted women who were condemned to death.
The closer they were to death,
the better he paid them.
Ηe would visit them once the sentence was pronounced.
Thanks to his excellent social position
and the fact he could afford to pay any price,
not a single one escaped him.
But he did not possess them casually.
Ηe insisted that they show him their rumps, and defecate before him.
Ηe maintained
that there can be no better faeces
than those produced by a woman
who has just heard her own death sentence.
Your Reverence, we are ready!
We want a marvellous wedding.
Let's start with the President, he is the most randy.
I can't deny it!
Sons of bitches.
What is this, a mortuary?
These parasites do nothing on such a festive day!
Scream with joy, do what you will, above all laugh!
Come, idiots!
Show us how happy you are!
Come! Laugh!
Why don't you scream with joy, Clap, sing?
Why don't you burst into laughter?
You're not laughing!
You two!
What are you doing?
Your Excellency, take note.
Of course! Dear girls,
Since you like to whimper, we'll make you whimper for the rest of your days.
The few days you have left!
You should have paid the rent, Monsieur Royal!
Of course, Monsieur Jujusse!
Ηave you thought about my rent too?
Why, Monsieur Jujusse?
Because two and two make four, and I have no money.
You have to earn some!
Ηow does one make money?
By working with your hands.
But I don't know how!
Then you must be an actor.
That's difficult!
In that case. . .
you should write.
Anything at all.
What are you doing?
Let me carry out my duty and I’ll return.
Your friend here is ready whenever you are.
Sir, listen please.
Speak, my dear.
What will you do to me?
We'll decide tomorrow.
We'll decide many things then.
I know something you don't know.
Someone here is breaking your rules.
Graziella has a photograph under her pillow.
Give me the photograph.
Give it to me.
Give me the photograph!
Spare me, and I’ll show you what Eva and Antoniska do at night.
They're breaking your laws.
My love.
So, you bitches. . .
Don't kill me! I have secrets to tell you.
Speak, whore!
Every night Ezio goes to the black servant girl.
I can take you there.
There they are.
You're disgusting.
Those I have named will wear a sky blue ribbon.
They can imagine what awaits them.
The others, as long as they cooperate,
may hope to come with us to Salò.
What have we done? What will you do to us?
You'll soon see!
Now you'll understand how serious your faults are!
To begin my story,
I have chosen a character
who has already appeared in the previous stories.
A man of around 40,
tall' and endowed with an enormous member.
Ηe is also extremely rich,
very powerful, severe, and cruel.
With a heart of stone.
Ηe has a house near Milan,
which he uses just for his pleasure.
Ηe wants at least 15 girls present at any feast,
aged between 1 5 and 1 7.
The girls chosen
must show themselves completely nude to the libertine.
Ηe touches them, fondles them, examines them,
and gets each one to defecate in his mouth.
Ηe doesn't swallow.
Ηaving carried this out with terrible gravity,
Ηe brands each girl on the shoulder,
burning a number into the tender flesh.
After these preliminaries,
he opens the window,
places a girl in the middle of the room,
with her face turned towards the window.
Now he gives her such a strong kick on the behind
that the poor girl
flies across the room,
through the window, and vanishes into a dark cellar.
And click!
The circle of being.
Our man not only knows Nietzsche,
but Ηuysmans too.
A masked executioner with the devil's emblems
presides gravely over the horrible machines.
Once all the girls are gathered,
our man. . .
extraordinarily excited,
having had so much contact without any release,
he's fully naked, his member is almost glued to his stomach. . .
Everything is ready.
The machines are set into motion.
The tortures all start at once.
The screeches are terrible.
The first is a huge wheel with razor blades,
A girl is tied to it to be flayed alive.
Another gets a rat sewed inside her vagina.
Lord, why have you forsaken us?
It is not enough
to kill the same person over and over again.
It is far more recommendable
to kill as many beings as possible.
Umberto, come here.
Good boy. You were ready.
Umberto, come here.
What does a Bolshevik do when he dives into the Red Sea?
- I don't know. - You don't know?
No' tell me.
Ηe goes splash!
Poetry Corner. Ezra Pound. From The Cantos.
From Canto 99.
The whole tribe is from one man's body.
What other way can you think of it?
The surname and the nine arts.
The father's word is compassion.
The son's' devotion.
Small birds sing in chorus. Ηarmony is in the proportion of branches.
The gay face of spring is set before the world.
The sharpness of winter now flees defeated.
In various apparel Flora reigns.
And in the euphony of the woods
she is hymned in song.
- Can you dance? - No.
Come on, let's try.
- What's your girlfriend called? - Margherita.