Quills Page #6

Male power lies|in the clench of a fist,

but a woman's power|lies elsewhere:;

in the velvet cavity|betwixt her thighs.

It's late, Simone, darling.

Put your poems aside.

Breakfast.

Madeleine, I beg you-

What have they done to you now ?

Tortures so ugly,|so medieval...

even I haven't the words|to describe them.

- Go on.|- If you have an ounce|of pity in your heart,

throw caution aside...

and unlock my door.

God help me.

- I don't dare.|- Don't be a dunce, child.|I have a surprise for you.

Now open the friggin' door.

My newest book.

It starts at my left cuff...

and continues|right across my back.

The longest sentence,|you'll notice,

runs the entire length|of my inseam.

And it all completes itself...

at the base|of my right shoe.

- Oh, my. " Pikestaff' ?|- Yes.

- Yes.

- " Naked on a plate" ?|- Yes.

"One hundred unhurried tongues" ?

Yes.

- You're a genius !|- Yes !

Shh !

Go quickly...

so you won't be blamed|form misbehavior.

Maddie, you traffic with the devil,|you'll pay the devil's price.

- Sorry.|- Guards !

- Guards !|- Yes !

- Shh !|- You'll pay ! Guards !

Look what I've brought you,|my darlings.

- There's something written.|- Two chapters, one for each cheek.

My writing lives !

Take this beast|back to his cage !

Don't tell me.|You've come to read my trousers.

Don't keep me in suspense.|What will it be, 50 lashes ?|A night on the rack ?

I won't sully my hands|with him.

Nor should you.|That's the first rule|of politics, isn't it ?

The man who orders the execution|never drops the blade !

You're fortunate|they've forced me to punish you.

If it were up to the doctor,|you'd be flayed alive.

Well, the doctor is a man|after my own heart.

What in God's name|am I to do with you ?

T-The more I forbid,|the more you're provoked.

Strip.

Your britches as well.

You started this little game...

you finish it.

Or haven't you the courage ?

I thought not.

It's a potent aphrodisiac,

isn't it, dumpling ?

Having power|over another man.

Your wig.

You'll no longer|spread your insidious gospel.

From now on,

you will not even write|your own ignominious name.

Are your convictions|so fragile,

they cannot stand|in opposition to mine ?

Is your God so flimsy, so weak ?|For shame !

Don't flatter yourself, Marquis.

You're not the Antichrist.

You're nothing but a malcontent|who knows how to spell.

I saw her with my own eyes.

She put the key in the latch|just as proud as she pleased.

Free her now !

Leave her duly strung.

Maddie.

If only blood|will appease you,

then shed mine !

- Abbe, no.|- Go on.

Now !

That won't be necessary.

If you're going to|martyr yourself, Abbe,

do it for God,|not a chambermaid.

Now put your clothes back on.

Had I known|your taste in novels,

I never would have|taught you to read.

Don't say that.

Reading's my salvation.

But why must you indulge|in his pornography ?

It's a hard day's wages,|slaving away for madmen.

What I've seen in life,

it takes a lot|to hold my interest.

I put myself in his stories.

I play the parts.

- Each strumpet, each murderess.|- Oh, Maddie-

If I wasn't such a bad woman|on the page,

I'll hazard I couldn't be|such a good woman in life.

This is no place|for a child like you.

I'm sending you|away from here.

It would take the whole den|if you stop there.

It would take the whole den|if you stop there.

Now this is not good enough.|You understand ?

I refuse to pay-

We could line the walls|with Chinese silks.

Or, if you prefer,|a Florentine tapestry.

- Are you a literary man ?|- Excuse me ?

I do so admire men|with an appetite for...

books.

Madame, how could you ?

Have you actually|read this volume ?

I've memorized it.

There comes a time|in a young lady's life...

when she must|cast books aside...

and learn from experience.

That, monsieur...

requires a teacher.

Oh, yes, come on.|We'll have some fun.

- Maddie, what are you-

Is something wrong ?

Abbe, don't send me away,|I beg you.

I shouldn't refuse|your kindness...

but my heart's|held fast here.

By whom ?|The marquis ?

Mother's not|half so blind as you.

Oh, Madeleine.

There are certain feelings...|we must not voice.

Why not ?

They incite-

They incite us to act...

in ways...

we should not.

No.

What have I done ?

Go. Go back|to your room quickly.

You'll hate me now,|won't you ?

No. I love you, Madeleine...

as a child of God.

- Forgive me.

Madeleine.

- Maddie.

You don't fear|the marquis' sway on me.

You fear your own.

If you'd grant me a final favor,|I'd like to explain myself.

Don't come any closer, Abbe.|God's watching.

Maddie-

"Most esteemed|Dr. Royer-Collard,

"At long last|your chateau is complete.

"You will find everything|in its assigned place:

"the chintz draperies,|the English bell pulls,

"even the ivory doorstops.

"Only one detail is missing-

Your wife."

Tell him I'm no fool.

A prison is still a prison,

even with Chinese silks|and chandeliers.

" By the time you read this,|we'll be long gone.

Bound for England|or points beyond."

Tell him if he discovers|our whereabouts,

you'll slit your wrist|with a razor and I'll plunge|a hat pin through my heart.

You'd do that...|rather than forsake our love ?

No... but tell him I would.

Sign it... quickly.

Then you can ravish me again|on linens for which he so dearly paid.

And then, I beg you,

on the bearskin rug|in his study.

And finally,|as a crowning gesture,

we'll leave puddles of love|on the Peruvian marble.

Simone !

Simone ! Simone ?

Simone ?

Stop !

Stop ! I beg you !

I'll write dainty stories,|odes to virtue.

Children's verse.|I promise !

It excites you, doesn't it,|to hurt me thus ?

Look, you're solid as bone,|straining your trousers.

Don't you see,|you self-righteous f*** ?

The longer you continue|your vexations,

the deeper you root|my principles in my heart !

Haven't you seen...

a man naked before ?

The abbe's sending me away.

Yes.

Of course he is.

Marquis...

tell me one little story.

How do you propose|I do that ?

With dust upon the air ?

Whisper it to me now.

Child, that's far too dangerous.

I may never see you again.

Let me transcribe it for you,|something to remember you by.

This is neither the time|nor the place.

We've lost.

I never thought|I'd see you defeated.

There are thousands|of stories...

I would dearly love to tell.

Then tell me one.

Perhaps I can.

Tonight, place yourself|in the linen pantry...

with a bottle of ink|and a quill.

And then you shall|have a story...

that will make|the angels weep...

and the saints|all gasp for air.

Psst, she's here.

Dauphin. Dauphin.

Dauphin.

- Cleante. Cleante.

Psst, Cleante, are you ready ?

- Are you ready ?|- Marquis, is that you ?

For f***'s sake, who else would it be ?|Have you alerted the others ?

I'm no longer a man.

I awoke to discover|I turned into a sparrow.

- Is that so ?

Well, I awoke to discover|I'd turned into a cat !

If you don't do as I say,|I'll sink my little fangs|into your drumsticks...

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