Beauregard de Farniente - The Adventures of Father Silas

When I look back at the strange vicissitudes that have chequered my existence, and compare the troubles of the past with the serenity of the present, I can scarcely regret the misfortune which made me retire from active service under the standard of the mighty Venus, and thus afforded me leisure to lay the fruits of my own bitter experience before those who may hereafter serve under the same banners.

I am the fruit of the incontinence of the reverend Celestine Fathers of the town of B-. I say of the reverend Fathers, because all of them boasted of having contributed a share in the formation of my individual person. But what so suddenly arrests me? My heart is agitated-is it through fear that I shall be reproached with revealing the mysteries of the Church? Alas! I must overcome this compunction. Who does not know that all men are men, and especially the monks? they have certainly the faculty of cooperating in the propagation of the species; and why should we hinder them, when they acquit themselves so well in that particular?

Perhaps the reader is impatient for the commencement of a detailed account of my origin. I am sorry that I cannot so soon satisfy him on that head, but I will at once introduce him to the acquaintance of a worthy peasant, upon whom for a long time I looked as my father.

Ambrose, for that was the good man's name, was gardener at a country house belonging to the Celestines, in a little village at some leagues from the town: his wife, Annette, was chosen for my nurse. She had brought a son into the world, who lived but a few days, and his death helped to conceal the mystery of my birth. This child was privately buried, and the offspring of the monks put in his place.

As I grew up, everybody supposed me to be the gardener's son, as I myself also believed.

I may say, however, if the reader will pardon my vanity, that my inclinations betrayed my origin. I do not know what divine influence operates in the works of monks, but it seems that the virtue of the frock is communicated to every thing they touch. Annette was a proof of this. She was the most frisky female I ever saw, and I have seen a pretty number. She was stout, but somewhat attractive, with little black eyes and a turned-up nose, lively and amorous, and dressed rather better than peasants in general. She would have been an excellent makeshift for a respectable man; guess what she must have been for the monks.

When the jade was decked out in her Sunday corset, which enclosed a bosom that the sun had never browned, and allowed a glimpse of her breasts, struggling, as it were, to escape from its constraint; ah! how did I then feel that I was not her son, or that I was quite prepared to resign that honor.

My disposition was altogether monkish. Led by instinct, I never saw a girl without embracing her, or passing my hand over her wherever she would allow me; and although I did not positively know what I wanted, my heart told me that I should have gone further, had no opposition been offered to my transports.

One day, when they supposed me to be at school, I had remained at home in a little closet where I slept. A thin partition, against which a bed was placed, separated it from the chamber of Ambrose. I was asleep, it was the middle of summer and very hot; I was suddenly awakened by several violent pushes against the partition. I knew not what to think of this noise, which became still louder. I listened and could hear the sound of some few words, incoherent and indistinctly articulated.

“Ah! gently, my dear Annette, not so fast! Oh! hussy, you kill me with pleasure!… quick! oh! faster! oh! I am dying”

I was surprised at such exclamations, the force of which I could not understand. I sat up, but durst scarcely move. If they found me there I had much to fear: I knew not what to think, I was so excited. My uneasiness, however, soon gave way to curiosity. I heard the noise repeated, and thought I could distinguish the voices of Annette and someone, by turns, uttering the same words that had before attracted my attention. I continued to listen, till the desire to see what was going on in the chamber became so strong as to banish all my fears. I determined to ascertain what it was. I think I would have readily gone directly into the chamber for that purpose, whatever the danger of so doing might be; but that was not required. As I felt with my hand for some opening in the partition, I found one which was merely covered by a large picture. I made a hole through this, and what a sight! – There was Annette, as naked as my hand, stretched out on the bed, and Father Polycarp, the proctor of the convent, who had been at the house for some time past, as naked as herself doing… what? That which our first parents did when God commanded them to people the Earth, but under circumstances rather less lascivious.

This discovery produced in me surprise mixed with joy, and an acute and delightful sensation that I should have found it impossible to express. I felt as if I could have given every drop of my blood to be in the monk's place. How I envied him the great happiness he appeared to enjoy! An unknown fire shot through my veins; my face reddened; my heart beat; I held my breath; and the pike of Venus, which I took in my hand, was stiff enough to knock down the partition, if I had pushed hard against it. The Father finished his career, and as he raised himself off Annette, he left her face overspread with the deepest red. She was panting for breath; her arms lying down, and her bosom heaved with astonishing rapidity. My eyes ran over every part of her body with inconceivable expedition; nor was there a spot on which my ardent imagination did not fix a thousand burning kisses. I sucked her bubbles, her belly; but the most delicious place, from which my eyes, when once they found it, could not be removed, was… You understand me. How charming did that jewel appear to me! Oh what lovely coloring! Although covered with a white froth, it lost in my eyes nothing of its brilliancy. By the delight I felt, I recognized in it the very focus of pleasure. It was shaded with black and curly hair. Annette lay with her legs parted, and it seemed as if her lechery was in accord with my curiosity, in order to leave me nothing to desire.

The monk having recovered his vigor, again presented himself to renew the combat; he remounted with fresh ardor, but his strength was not equal to his courage, and fatigued with fruitless efforts, he soon withdrew his instrument from Annette's jewel, all powerless and drooping its head. Annette, disappointed at this retreat, took hold of it and began to rub it; the monk was in the utmost agitation, and appeared unable to bear the pleasure he experienced. I examined all their proceedings with no guide but nature, nor other instruction than the instance before me; and in my curiosity to learn the cause of the convulsive movements of the Father, I sought for it in myself. I was astonished at feeling a pleasure hitherto unknown to me, which gradually increased, till it became so intense that I fainted away on the bed. Nature made surprising efforts, and every part of my body seemed to participate in the pleasure afforded by that which I grasped. At length came the discharge of a white fluid, similar to what I had observed on the thighs of Annette, which soon dissipated my ecstasy, and I then returned to the aperture in the partition: however, all was over; the last game was played out. Annette was dressing herself, and the Father had already adjusted his clothing. I remained some time, my head and heart still occupied with the incident I had witnessed, in that kind of stupefaction which a young man experiences when a new and unexpected light has burst in upon his understanding.