J. Donleavy - The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B

Beefy opening the door. Ushering in his guests. He goes from room to room announcing an all clear and switching on a light. Breda staring around these booklined walls. Hung with risque tapestries and silver ornaments. Crossed sabres over the mantel. Four shotguns locked against a wall. A great carpet woven with the facial and saucy aspects of a Persian gentleman in all expressions from sadness to outright laughter. In every nook and cranny, crystal splendours. Bound volumes. Ecclesiastical Policy. Eucharistic Faith and Practice. A Short History of the Doctrine of Atonement.

"That woman there on the wall is my granny. Who has made much of what you see here possible. Often I kneel of an evening, light a candle and look up to her and pray my thanks. She is as flint hearted as she looks. But do help yourselves to the bowl of raisins one and all. And allow me to pour. Rebecca, whisky."

"Ah you're a cod. Sure this place is like one of them black gentlemen have."

"I have my dear woman not been blessed by a dark complexion but I am a man of the divinity, do not forget that.

Must satisfy the Archbishop King's Professor that I am an habitual communicant of the Church of Ireland. Nor forget that before ordaining a candidate for the ministry you must have your medical certificate of health. Leave no doubt as to physical soundness in the performance of ministerial duties.

There Rebecca read that tome, The Problem of the Pastoral Epistles."

"What would I want with such protestant rubbish. Sure you'll burn to a crisp in hell, you will."

"Ah Rebecca you take the pope to heart. Did you know he was a share holder in your breweries."

"What kind of talk is that."

"Ah Rebecca, Rome is finished as a power. The pope is in voluntary liquidation and is making for Zurich but I thirst for a glance of your naked person, your fleshy realizable assets."

"You'll roast for centuries."

"But tonight let us not be squeamish. Blessed is the man who puts his pole into the ungodly and spits mighty spurts. O God I'm so painfully horny. Step lightly forward now in a rhythmic manner my dear. Off with your garments. Let us have some balletic expertise."

"I will in a tinker's tit, in front of everyone."

"Ah no vile language here, girl. British territorial prerogatives prevail within these Trinity walls. Be not base low mean and shabby. Strip off." "Will you listen to him. Strip off he says."

"Ah Rebecca can't you see I'm agog for your nude form. Breathlessly impatient for visiting vile humiliations upon you. Blessed are they who lay down their garments one by one in a manner of teasing dalliance for they will have a pole of plenty eight miles up them. In due ruddy course. Of course."

"You're a Presbyterian."

"Ah you've uttered the one thing that provokes me Rebecca and calls for, of course, rape. I must rape you. Don't try to struggle it will be useless."

"Sure I can scream the bricks down of this building."

"We must employ the gags. Can't have outcry when Beefy is scintillating through his magic mire of shame. Just here inside this cabinet, here we are, the gags, the silk pyjama cords. For trussing up. For the vile proddings."

Balthazar hands joined entwined, his back pressing against a series of volumes in the book case, A Theological Introduction and Texts to Religious Experience and Divine Diverticula. Breda looking from face to face. Beefy dropping his trousers. Rebecca pulling off her dress. Not to know what was funny or what was sad. Or what was rape and what was mad.

But only to tremble in terror. Visions of porters and authorities marching eighty abreast across Front Square. Crowbars held high. For breaking and entering. Hangman's nooses for stretching throats. And to dangle, one's university career at a dismal end.

Beefy raging with considerable nudity holding up his silk pyjama cords. Breda covering her eyes with well spaced fingers. Rebecca in a wild peal of laughter seizing this unforgettable instrument asway upon Beefy's chunky person. As I good heavens, feel constrained to look out the window. And Breda gasps.

"Ah God I've never seen the likes of a thing like that before. It's as big as a donkey's. Sure your man is a mule."

"Good God your toenails Rebecca, need cutting, I'll report you to the Society of Chiropodists. Ah but otherwise, isn't she my Rebecca, the most splendid creature. Pirouette my dear. Ah that raised some fine points. Of divinity if not law. But we're losing the sense of rape here. Cringe back a little my dear. If the Provost could only see us. Keeping up the fine traditions of the college. Numini et patriae asto. And now. For rape."

Beefy charging across the floor. Hands raised in a pose horrid and menacing. Pyjama cords draped in a priestly manner about his neck. Seizing Rebecca by the wrists, her legs buckling beneath her as a smile broke across her face and laughter trembled her knees.

"Rebecca you're ruining this deadly serious act. I am about to rape you. This won't do."

Rebecca doubling up with her hands held across her belly. Beefy bent pulling them apart. Shaking her into resistant action. As she went limp on the floor. Breda wide eyed and pushing back her sweater sleeves.

"You're getting awfully dusty Rebecca. It's not fair of you to behave this way. Resist. For God's sake. O dear what can I do, my charm melts all hearts, and everyone, men women and children open their legs to me. Into the bedroom, Rebecca. I will lash you to the bed. And in my best secular manner I will have at you like a beast bounding straight out of the bible. Numini et patriae asto. And don't spare the jujubes."

Balthazar swallowing constant lumps of air. Wiping his brow with handkerchief. The crumpled giggling figure of Rebecca carried into the bedroom. Jubilant jouncing coming out the half open door. To reach and pass the bowl of raisins across to Breda. To select of these dried grapes.

"What was that he was saying in that funny language."

"I stand on the side of God and my country."

"Sure in the condition he's in what God or country would have him."

"Would you have tea if I can find the kettle and leaves."

"Aren't you about to try anything with me."

"No."

"I'll have a cup then if you're making one. Can you tell me if your friend is completely round the bend."

"He's the most brilliant brain of the university."

"Is that a fact. Well if you ever knew what was on another person's mind you wouldn't know what to put on your own at all. He's one for devilment."

The door crashing open. Beefy, trousers down around his ankles, shuffling and hobbling in his socks. His private signal tied with a bow of pyjama cord waving in circumcised salute, poking out beyond the floating tails of his shirt. Breda shrinking back from this bullish grinning ruddy face.

"Balthazar. Where are you. See for yourself. Rebecca trussed up. Ready to give treats. My dear girl show some shame, how dare you stare at my instrument in that manner. We shall rape Rebecca. Then it shall be your turn. While you rape Rebecca Balthazar I shall truss this truculent lass to the other bed. And by God we'll rape you."

"I'm making tea for us, Beefy."

"O my gawd. You'd let such opportunities as I've prepared slip. For the sake of Empire dear man. For Monarch. We must on with the felony. You lass you're next, make no mistake about that."

"I'm not with you I'm with your friend here who's a well behaved gentleman."

"Stop. Do I sense here the shirty and utterly shabby nuance of criminal impertinence. And take your eyes off my instrument this instant."

"Sure it's not my fault if it's there put in front of me eyes."

"You are a saucy lass. I'm putting you down in my notebook. Needy of corrective measures."

"You fancy yourself. Standing around like that You should be ashamed of yourself."