"Sade, Marquis De - The 120 Days Of Sodom 1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marquis de Sade)

iron temperament, the strength of a horse, the member of a veritable mule,
wondrously hirsute, blessed with the ability to eject its sperm any number
of times within a given day and at will, even at the age of fifty, which
was his age at the time, a virtually constant erection in this member whose
dimensions were an exact eight inches for circumference and twelve for
length over-all, and there you have the portrait of the Duc de Blangis,
drawn as accurately as if you'd wielded the pencil yourself. But if this
masterpiece of Nature was violent in its desires, what was it like, Great
God! when crowned by drunken voluptuousness? 'Twas a man no longer, 'twas a
raging tiger. Woe unto him who happened then to be serving its passions;
frightful cries, atrocious blasphemies sprang from the Duc's swollen
breast, flames seemed to dart from his eyes, he foamed at the mouth, he
whinnied like a stallion, you'd have taken him for the very god of lust.
Whatever then was his manner of having his pleasure, his hands necessarily
strayed, roamed continually, and he had been more than once seen to
strangle woman to death at the instant of his perfidious discharge. His
presence of mind once restored, his frenzy was immediately replaced by the
most complete indifference to the infamies wherewith he had just indulged
himself, and of this indifference, of this kind of apathy, further sparks
of lechery would be born almost at once.
In his youth, the Duc had been known to discharge as often as eighteen
times a day, and that without appearing one jot more fatigued after the
final than after the initial ejaculation. Seven or eight crises within the
same interval still held no terrors for him, his half a century of years
notwithstanding. For roughly twenty-five years he had accustomed himself to
passive sodomy, and he withstood its assaults with the identical vigor
characterized his manner of delivering them actively when, the very next
moment, it pleased him to exchange roles. He had once wagered he could
sustain fifty-five attacks in a day, and so he had. Furnished, as we have
pointed out, with prodigious strength, he needed only one hand to violate a
girl, and he had proved it upon several occasions. One day he boasted he
could squeeze the life out of a horse with his legs; he mounted the beast,
it collapsed at the instant he had predicted. His prowess at the table
outshone, if that is possible, what he demonstrated upon the bed. There's
no imagining what had come to be the quantity of the food he consumed. He
regularly ate three meals a day, and they were all three exceedingly
prolonged and exceedingly copious, and it was as nothing to him to toss
down his usual ten bottles of Burgundy; he had drunk up to thirty, and
needed but to be challenged and he would set out for the mark of fifty; but
his intoxication taking on the tinge of his passions, and liqueurs or wines
having heated his brain, he would wax furious, and they would be obliged to
tie him down. And despite all that, would you believe it? a steadfast child
might have hurled this giant into a panic; true indeed it is that the
spirit often poorly corresponds with the fleshy sheath enveloping it: as
soon as Blangis discovered he could no longer use his treachery or his
deceit to make away with his enemy, he would become timid and cowardly, and
the mere thought of even the mildest combat, but fought on equal terms,
would have sent him fleeing to the ends of the earth. He had nevertheless,
in keeping with custom, been in one or two campaigns, but had acquitted
himself so disgracefully he had retired from the service at once.