J. Donleavy - The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B

"Madam you must stop, there is blood on Monsieur."

I sat on a righted chair. Millicent ran from the room. Went down the stairs and slammed out the front door. Alphonsine bathed my eye. And put a bandage neatly there. One further trial of strength was over. With a letter reaching me two days later. From her solicitors. An injunction would be sought restraining me. Not to molest my wife. With another letter a day after from my trustees, enclosing an envelope marked personal and postmarked Belfast.

The Temple

London E.C.4

Dear Mr. B,

Herewith a letter of which we are in receipt with the request that it be forwarded to you.

We should be glad if you will attend a meeting, convened by the undersigned trustees, in order that compensation paid to the trustees may be varied with regard to increased expenses now found incurred by the many recent contingencies. Please advise us of a time suitable to you.

Yours faithfully,

Bother, Writson, Horn,

Pleader & Hoot

Part this other envelope, black ink penned neatly on the cream paper. My hand atremble and my heart thumps hard. To see again this address.

The Manor

Co. Fermanagh

My dear Balthazar,

I know this letter will find you far away in your own life. And it is with the greatest sorrow that I write. But I feel you would have wanted to know. Elizabeth died the thirty first of March. And was buried here beside her brother and mother.

It is extremely hard to know how to say something when one learns that out of a desperate love there can come cruel things. It broke my heart to withdraw from my daughter's wedding plans. Elizabeth had an accident taking a hedge with her horse being caught by wire and she was thrown violently hitting her head. I could not face the doctor's verdict. Elizabeth after the accident never fully regained her complete self. But in her limited way she begged me not to say anything in the hope that she would get well. Neither of us could bear the thought that the possibility of marrying did not remain. Her love meant so much to her. And therefore to me. It was the only thing still perfect she had. Now that it is over I somehow feel that it would have been fairer to you had you known. And that I was wrong in a hopeless way. It was a father's love for his only daughter that made me not say for her sake. And I do most hope you will understand. She also asked as a final wish I should send you this enclosed.

Yours sincerely,

Raphael Fitzdare

Inside the pink envelope Balthazar withdrew a sheet of paper with a large lettered scrawl of two words headed, The Manor, Co. Fermanagh.

Dear Balthazar

And that night when finally I could sleep I dreamt a dream. I had had so many times before. In the darkness and night wind of that green land. Under the tall trees and waving grasses. Fitzdare sat by moonlight on her little brother's tomb stone in a wedding dress. And I would climb the hill up from the lough and cross to her and try to take up the white splendid vision in my arms. And wake with tears.

I had breakfast at my desk each morning brought by Alphonsine. Weather wanning across London. The skies clean and blue. And sat with my feet up over the steaming delicious coffee and croissants. Which I covered with blackcurrant jam. Staring out my window over the lilac trees and across the walls at windows where perhaps there move other sad lives. When my private phone rings. The one man who knows its number. Pick up the black handle. And hear Beefy.

"Dear boy, joy. It is announced. Just as I finally threw in the towel. Put on your hat and coat and rush to the Edge-ware Road. Meet me the north east corner of Praed Street. Sorry to give you such sudden news. You know how one might pick up the best newspaper of a morning only to read that the Swedes are legalising incest. But for me I regain my rank. Valued by one's equals and honoured by one's inferiors. Of course I may add I am really a one orgasm man but I do guarantee some tempestuous thrustings in between."

"What's happened Beefy."

"It has happened. New shirtings, smoking jackets and kimonos are on the way. The Ritz first stop. The Infanta and I have a little passionate caprice I'd like you to cultivate. Called the regal rapture. Balthazar you will think me entirely without humility. But you know I stand in front of the mirror now and I must say when I look at it, it's fully ready for rosy rogering in deep solitude. Corsica perhaps for the honeymoon."

"Beefy I can't understand what you're saying."

"We are marrying, the Violet Infanta and I, today. Awfully rush and much hush hush. You are best man."

And Balthazar B rushed to change his clothes. Gathering money from the bank. Only thing one has for a present. Put it in a brown bag with two apples they can eat wherever they go. Jump into a taxi heading to the meeting place up this straight grim road. The Violet Infanta in a blue suit and blue hat. Beefy in grey double breasted pin stripe and Trinity Dublin tie. In a panelled room four of us stand before this pleasant smiling man. Who frowned a little and looked up as Beefy convulsively exploded a helpless laughter out his lips. And said as we went to a nearby hotel, I hope no one minded, my laughter was all relief.

Outside there was a din of pneumatic drills and I bid them goodbye with a wave and kiss from my lips. The dark shadow of Beefy through the opaque taxi window. I shook hands with the Infanta's friend who boarded a bus. People part. One does not want to grow old in misery. Trickle down to death. Carry always with me now. My Fitzdare I married. Long ago in my heart. Her smile and all the rest of her. Walks with me. Told to one's face. By a wife who has trapped you. Because of your money. Stroll along this road through a thronged street. Lady shoppers testing tomatoes on the stalls. Past this female hospital. And over the canal. No taxis anywhere. Just wait and look. Before one goes into the tube. Watch that weary old dog bent up crapping in the gutter between two cars. Poor doggy having such a struggle. Like Beefy he may have piles. But codes as well because he doesn't foul the footpath. Pity there are not more doggies like him. My God he's taken umbrage at my watching.

The dog with its fat body wobbling on thin ancient legs sped up from the street at Balthazar, barking and biting round his ankles. As one moves most quickly down the steps into the tube. A lesson learned that some doggies want their privacy. Like his master standing at the door of his pub. A regular who goes back inside to ask for his usual. And drink beer in the quiet civility where no shins are chipped. Or privates displayed.

Go now and take a ticket anywhere. On the low round little trains. Roaring down their tunnel tracks. One will go to St. James and walk across back through the park. See the ducks and swans swooping in the air. Wish so much for Beefy to be glad. With his pretty bride. The two of them holding hands. Wed when the daffodils are gone. And Beefy said the Infanta said she married him because she liked men with big pricks so she wouldn't have to strain her eyes.

Stepping off the train. Walking down this grey station. Bright shouting pictures on the walls. And suddenly stayed by a hand. To turn and look into the black face of a man.

"Escuse me sir."

"Yes."

"Do you live about here."

"No. But not too far away."

"Can you tell me how to get to the Foreign Office."

"Yes indeed. Just go out of the station into Petty France Street. Down Queen Anne's Gate, go right along the park. I think it is Birdcage Walk. Continue left along the park and then go right, up some steps, into what I think is King Charles Street. And that's the Foreign Office."

"Sir may I ask you kindly another favour. I have been watching you on the train. I have been riding the train for hours. Seeing all the faces. Just waiting until I could see a face of intelligence and humanity. Such as yours, the only face like that I have seen all day. I am a medical student. At Edinburgh university. And sir, believe me when I say I have waited to see a face like yours. One of sensitivity. An honourable face. Distinguished. I know nothing more about you except what I see. And sir, I know you have been to a university. Is that correct."