“O most generous of men!” Oxtiern cried, “is it possible? . . . I, free? . . . and free thanks to you? . . . you who, were you to take my life, would still not punish me as I deserve to be?”
“I was certain that such would be your reaction,” said the Colonel. “That is why I imagined there would no longer be any risk involved in restoring to you a gift which ’twould be impossible that you further abuse. . . . Moreover, does your suffering in any wise ease my own? Can your sorrows make me happy? Can your detention pay for the blood your barbarous acts have spilled? If I deemed ’twere so, I would be as cruel as you, and as unjust. Does casting a man into prison compensate society for the wrongs he has done it? . . . Such a man must be set free, if amends are to be made, and if he is freed there is none who would fail to make them, there is not a single man alive who would not prefer doing good to the necessity of living in chains. When, amongst some nations, despotism denies this truth or when, amongst others, the rigor of the law prevents it, the heart of the honest man confirms it. . . . Go then, Count, leave these depths; I say it again, you are a free man. . . .”
Oxtiern tried to embrace his benefactor.
“Monsieur,” Sanders said to him coldly, pushing him away. “Save your gratitude; nor do I want you to be grateful to me for something I have done for myself alone. . . . Let us leave this place forthwith; I am more eager than you to see you beyond the confines of this mine, in order to explain everything to you.”
Sanders, seeing us with Oxtiern and having learned who we were, invited us to ascend to the surface with him and the Count; we accepted. Oxtiern went with the Colonel to complete certain formalities required before he could be set free; our sidearms were returned to us, and we ascended to the surface.
“Gentlemen,” Sanders said to us as soon as we were outside, “I would be grateful if you would act as my witnesses in what yet remains for me to discover to Count Oxtiern. You have seen that I did not tell him everything back there in the mine; there were too many bystanders. . . .”
And as we were still walking while we talked, we soon found ourselves in the vicinity of a hedge which completely concealed us from any prying eyes. Then the Colonel seized the Count by the collar:
“Senator,” he said to him. . . . “I expect you now to give me satisfaction; I trust you are brave enough not to refuse me this demand and intelligent enough to realize that the most cogent reason I had for acting in this manner was the hope of slitting your throat or having mine slit by you.”
Falkeneim attempted to intervene and separate the two opponents.
“Monsieur,” the Colonel said to him testily, “you are not unaware of the outrages I have suffered at the hand of this man. My dear departed daughter’s spirit cries out for blood: one of us will not leave this spot alive. Gustavus is privy to the plan; when he granted me the privilege of setting this wretch free, he voiced no objections to it. Therefore, Monsieur, I beg you not to interfere.”
And the Colonel, removing his coat, straightway drew his sword. . . . Oxtiern drew his as well, but scarcely had they crossed swords than the Count, seizing the end of his own and taking the point of the Colonel’s in his left hand, offered him the handle of his weapon and, dropping to one knee:
“Gentlemen,” he said, glancing at us, “I ask you both to be my witnesses; I want you to know that I do not deserve the honor of fighting a duel with this worthy man, but that I place my life in his hands, and ask only that he take it from me. . . . Here is my sword, Colonel, take it, ’tis yours. And here is my heart; thrust your own sword into it, I shall help direct it to its mark. Do not hesitate; ’tis not a request I make, but a demand. Deliver this earth forthwith of a monster who has too long besoiled it.”
Taken aback by Oxtiern’s movement, Sanders cried out to him to defend himself.
“I shall not, and if you refuse to put this sword I am now holding to use,” Oxtiern firmly declared, directing the tip of Sanders’ sword to his bare breast, “if you refuse to use this sword to put an end to all my days, I swear to you, Colonel, that I shall use it to gouge out my eyes.”
“Count, blood must be shed . . . it must, I say, blood must be shed.”
“I know,” said Oxtiern, “and ’tis for this reason I bare my breast to you. Thrust your sword into it . . . ’tis from this breast alone that blood must flow.”
“But ’tis not thuswise I wish to act,” Sanders responded, still trying to wrest his sword from Oxtiern’s grasp, “but upon the field of honor I wish to punish you for all your villainies.”
“I am unworthy to meet you on any field of honor, Colonel Sanders,” Oxtiern retorted, “and since you refuse to satisfy your honor as ’tis only meet you should, I shall therefore spare you the trouble. . . .”
So saying, he fell upon the Colonel’s sword, which he was still gripping in his hand, and from his entrails there spurted a stream of blood. But the Colonel, quickly withdrawing his sword:
“’Tis enough, Count,” he exclaimed. . . . “Your blood has been shed, my honor is appeased. . . . May Heaven complete your punishment; I have no desire to act as your executioner.”
“Let us then embrace, Monsieur,” said Oxtiern, who was losing considerable blood.
“No,” said Sanders. “I can forgive you for your crimes, but ask not that I be your friend.”
We hastened to bind the Count’s wound, the kindhearted Sanders lending a hand.
“Now go,” he then said to the Senator. “Go and take advantage of the freedom I have rendered you. Try, if ’tis possible for you, to atone by a few good deeds for all the crimes whereof you have been guilty. Otherwise I shall spread the word throughout the length and breadth of Sweden of the crime whereof I was guilty in setting free a monster of which the country had already been delivered. Gentlemen,” Sanders went on, turning to Falkeneim and me, “I have provided for all contingencies; the carriage which is waiting at the inn where we are now going was brought thither for Oxtiern alone, but it can take you both as well. My horses await me elsewhere; I bid you adieu. I ask that you swear to me by all that is holy that you will give the King a fair account of what you have just seen.”
Oxtiern wanted once again to cast himself into the arms of his liberator; he begged him to reconsider and be friends, and besought him to come and share both his dwelling and his fortune.
“Monsieur,” said the Colonel, pushing him away a second time, “I have already told you I cannot accept from you either your friendship or your gifts. But what I still demand from you is virtue; do not make me regret what I have done. . . . You tell me that you want to console me for the sorrows I have known; the surest method of doing so is to alter your conduct. In my retreat, each time I hear tell of a good deed you have done, a little of the sorrow wherewith my soul is graven will perhaps be effaced. If you resume your infamous ways, every crime you commit will conjure before my eyes the image of her who, through your perfidious plot, died by my hand, and you will plunge me into despair. Adieu . . . ’tis time to take leave, Oxtiern. And may we never meet again. . . .”
Upon these words, the Colonel turned and left. . . . Oxtiern, in tears, made as if to follow him, scarce able to move from his wound; we restrained him and practically carried him, for he was nigh to unconscious, to the waiting carriage, which soon brought us to Stockholm.
The poor man hovered for a month between life and death; at the end of this period, he invited us to accompany him to see the King, who asked us for a detailed account of all that had transpired.
“Oxtiern,” said Gustavus to the Senator, “you see how crime humiliates man, and how it debases him. . . . Your rank . . . your wealth . . . your noble birth, all gave you a higher station in life than Sanders. But his virtue alone places him above you, on a station you will never attain. Take full advantage of the great favor he has done you, Oxtiern, a favor to which I gave my prior consent. . . . After a lesson such as this, resolve either to mete out your own punishment before word reaches me of any new crimes you commit or to ma
ke certain you will never again stoop so low as to commit any.”
The Count cast himself at the feet of his sovereign and swore to him that his conduct would henceforth be irreproachable.
He was as good as his word: a thousand good deeds, one more magnanimous and edifying than the other, atoned for his former errors in the eyes of all Sweden. And his example demonstrated to that wise nation that ’tis not always by the paths of tyranny, or through ghastly vengeance, that man is restrained from evil or brought back to the path of good.
Sanders had returned to Norrköping, and there he ended his career, leading a solitary life burdened daily by the tears he shed over the loss of his unfortunate and ill-fated daughter, a life cheered by naught but the news received each day filled with encomiums concerning him whose chains he had broken.
“O Virtue,” he would sometimes exclaim, “perhaps ’twas essential that all these things happen thus in order to bring Oxtiern back to thy temple! If that be true, then my heart takes comfort in the thought, for I alone have suffered from the crimes he committed, whilst his good deeds redound to the benefit of all.”
Bibliography
I. WORKS PUBLISHED DURING THE AUTHOR’S LIFETIME
LITERARY WORKS
1. Justine, ou les Malheurs de la Vertu. En Hollande, Chez les Libraires associés [Paris, Girouard], 1791. Two volumes, 8vo. Frontispiece by Chéry. During Sade’s lifetime, there were six further printings between the initial publication and 1801. Sade’s re-arrest that year put an end to the reprintings. These subsequent editions were:
1) En Hollande [Paris, Girouard], 1791. Two volumes, 12mo. Certain copies of this edition include twelve erotic engravings.
2) À Londres [Paris, Cazin], 1792. Two volumes, 18mo. Frontispiece and five engravings.
3) Troisième [fourth] édition corrigée et augmentée. Philadelphie [Paris], 1794. Two volumes, 18mo. Frontispiece and five engravings.
4) À Londres [Paris], 1797. Four volumes, 18mo. Further augmented edition. Six erotic engravings.
5) En Hollande [Paris], 1800. Four volumes, 16mo. Presented as the Troisième édition corrigée et augmentée, this is actually a reprint of the original edition.
6) En Hollande [Paris], 1801. Four volumes, 16mo. Also presented as the Troisième édition corrigée et augmentée, this was a reprinting of the 1800 edition.1
2. Aline et Valcour, ou le Roman philosophique. Écrit à la Bastille un an avant la Révolution de France. Orné de quatorze gravures. Par le citoyen S***. À Paris, chez Girouard, Libraire, rue du Bout-du-Monde, n° 47, 1793. Eight volumes, 18mo.
There are actually three different editions of this work, bearing different dates and, in some instances, containing sixteen rather than twelve engravings. Sade announced2 the book would appear at Easter of 1791, but the instability of the times and the death of Girouard beneath the guillotine in 1794 kept the book from appearing until 1795, which date should be taken as the date of reference of the original edition.
3. La Philosophie dans le boudoir. Ouvrage posthume de l’auteur de “Justine.” À Londres, aux dépens de la Compagnie, MDCCXCV. Two volumes, 18mo. Frontispiece and four erotic engravings.
4. La Nouvelle Justine, ou les Malheurs de la Vertu. Ouvrage orné d’un frontispice et de quarante sujets gravés avec soin. En Hollande [Paris], 1797. Four volumes, 18mo. These four volumes comprise the first part of the definitive edition of this work, of which the second part, in six volumes, bears the title:
5. La Nouvelle Justine, ou les Malheurs de la Vertu, suivie de l’Histoire de Juliette, sa soeur [ou les Prospérités du vice.] Ouvrage orné d’un frontispice et de cent sujets gravés avec soin. En Hollande [Paris], 1797.
6. Oxtiern, ou les malheurs du libertinage, drame en trois actes et en prose par D.-A.-F. S. Représenté au Théâtre Molière, à Paris, en 1791; et à Versailles, sur celui de la Société Dramatique, le 22 frimaire, l’an 8 de la République. À Versailles, chez Blaizot, Libraire, rue Satory. An huitième [1800]. One volume, 8vo, 48 pages.
7. Les Crimes de l’Amour, Nouvelles héroïques et tragiques; précédées d’une Idée sur les romans et ornées de gravures, par D.-A.-F. Sade, auteur d’ “Aline et Valcour.” À Paris, chez Massé, éditeur-propriétaire, rue Helvétius n° 580. An VIII [1800]. Four volumes, 12mo. Four frontispieces. This work contains eleven stories, as follows:
Vol. I—Juliette et Raunai, ou la Conspiration d’Amboise, nouvelle historique; La Double Épreuve.
Vol. II—Miss Henriette Stralson, ou les Effets du désespoir, nouvelle anglaise; Faxelange, ou les Torts de l’ambition; Florville et Couvral, ou le Fatalisme.
Vol. III—Rodrigue, ou la Tour enchantée, conte allégorique; Laurence et Antonio, nouvelle italienne; Ernestine, nouvelle suédoise.
Vol. IV—Dorgeville, ou le Criminel par Vertu; la Comtesse de Sancerre, ou la Rivale de sa fille, anecdote de la Cour de Bourgogne; Eugénie de Franval.
8. L’Auteur de “Les Crimes de l’Amour” à Villeterque, folliculaire. Paris, Massé, an XI [1803]. 12mo, 20 pages.
9. La Marquise de Gange. Paris, Béchet, Libraire, quai des Augustins, n° 63, 1813. Two volumes, 12mo.
POLITICAL PAMPHLETS
1. Adresse d’un citoyen de Paris, au roi des Français. Paris, Girouard, no date [1791]. 8vo, 8 pages.
2. Section des Piques. Observations présentées à l’Assemblée administrative des hôpitaux. 28 octobre 1792. De l’Imprimerie de la Section des Piques, rue Saint-Fiacre, n°2., 8vo, 4 pages.
3. Section des Piques. Idée sur le mode de la sanction des Loix; par un citoyen de cette Section. De l’Imprimerie de la rue Saint-Fiacre n°2, 2 novembre 1792. 8vo, 16 pages.
4. Pétition des Sections de Paris à la Convention nationale. De l’imprimerie de la Section des Piques. No date [1793]. 8vo, 4 pages.
5. Section des Piques. Extraits des Régistres des délibérations de l’Assemblée générale et permanente de la Section des Piques. De l’Imprimerie de la Section des Piques, 1793. 8vo, 8 pages.
6. La Section des Piques à ses Frères et Amis de la Société de la Liberté et de l’Égalité, à Saintes, département de la Charente-Inférieure. De l’Imprimerie de la Section des Piques, 1793. 8vo, 4 pages.
7. Section des Piques. Discours prononcé par la Section des Piques, aux mânes de Marat et de Le Pelletier, par Sade, citoyen de cette section et membre de la Société populaire. De l’Imprimerie de la Section des Piques, 1793. 8vo, 8 pages.
8. Pétition de la Section des Piques, aux représentans du peuple français. De l’Imprimerie de la Section des Piques, 1793. 8vo, 8 pages.
II. PRINCIPAL POSTHUMOUS PUBLICATIONS
1. Dorci ou la Bizarrerie du sort, conte inédit par le marquis de Sade, publié sur le manuscrit avec une notice sur l’auteur [signed A. F. (Anatole France)]. Paris, Charavay frères, éditeurs, 1881. 16mo, 64 pages.
2. Historiettes, Contes et fabliaux de Donatien-Alphonse-François, marquis de Sade, publiés pour la première fois sur les manuscrits autographes inédits par Maurice Heine. À Paris, pour les membres de la Société du Roman Philosophique, 1926. 4to, 340 pages.
Contains the following works: HISTORIETTES—Le Serpent; La Saillie gasconne; L’Heureuse Feinte; Le M. . . puni; L’Évêque embourbé; Le Revenant; Les Harangueurs provençaux; Attrapez-moi toujours de même; L’Époux complaisant; Aventure incompréhensible; La Fleur de châtaignier. CONTES ET FABLIAUX—L’Instituteur philosophe; La Prude, ou la Rencontre imprévue; Émilie de Tourville, ou la Cruauté fraternelle; Augustine de Villeblanche, ou le Stratagème de l’amour; Soit fait ainsi qu’il est requis; Le Président mystifié; La Marquise de Thélème, ou les Effets du libertinage; Le Talion; Le Cocu de lui-même, ou le Raccommodement imprévu; Il y a place pour deux; L’Époux corrigé; le Mari prêtre, conte provençal; La Châtelaine de Longueville, ou la Femme vengée; Les Filous. APPENDICE—Les Dangers de la bienfaisance (Dorci).
3. Dialogue entre un prêtre et un moribond, par Donatien-Alphonse-François, marquis de Sade, publié pour la première fois sur
le manuscrit autographe inédit, avec un avant-propos et des notes par Maurice Heine. [Paris], Stendhal et Compagnie, 1926. Small 4to, 62 pages.
4. Correspondance inédite du Marquis de Sade, de ses proches et de ses familiers, publiée avec une introduction, des annales et des notes par Paul Bourdin. Paris, Librairie de France, 1929. Small 4to, 452 pages.
5. Marquis de Sade. Les Infortunes de la Vertu. Texte établi sur le manuscrit original autographe et publié pour la première fois avec une introduction par Maurice Heine. Paris, Éditions Fourcade, 1930. 8vo, 206 pages.
6. Les 120 Journées de Sodome, ou l’École du libertinage, par le marquis de Sade. Édition critique établie sur le manuscrit original autographe par Maurice Heine. À Paris, par S. et C., aux dépens des Bibliophiles souscripteurs, 1931–1935. Three volumes, 4to, 500 pages (uninterrupted pagination throughout the three volumes).3
7. Marquis de Sade. L’Aigle, Mademoiselle. . ., Lettres publiées pour la première fois sur les manuscrits autographes inédits avec une Préface et un Commentaire par Gilbert Lely. Paris, Les Éditions Georges Artigues, 1949. One volume, 16mo, 222 pages.
8. Marquis de Sade. Histoire secrète d’Isabelle de Bavière, reine de France. Publiée pour la première fois sur le manuscrit autographe inédit avec un avant-propos par Gilbert Lely. Paris, Librairie Gallimard, 1953. One volume, 16mo, 336 pages.
9. Marquis de Sade. Le Carillon de Vincennes. Lettres inédites publiées avec des notes par Gilbert Lely. Paris, “Arcanes,” 1953. One volume, 16mo, 106 pages.
10. Marquis de Sade. Cahiers personnels (1803–04). Publiés pour la première fois sur les manuscrits autographes inédits avec une préface et des notes par Gilbert Lely. Paris, Corréa, 1953. One volume, 12mo, 130 pages.
11. Marquis de Sade. Monsieur le 6. Lettres inédites (1778–1784) publiées et annotées par Georges Daumas. Preface de Gilbert Lely. Paris, Julliard, 1954. One volume, 16mo, 288 pages.