The more that Neaniskos wept, in fear,
pleading with tears that we should not hurt him,
the more my outrage toward him seethed and broiled,
flaming like to the torches we had brought
with us to light the way through that dark night
(I think I never saw a starless night
darker when we abducted him from Nain).
The only son of a widowed woman,
he was fourteen years old, and beautiful
to look upon: his long hair, in profuse
soft curls cascaded almost to his waist.
Slender of frame and delicate of limb,
his facial features were more lovely than
the loveliest of girls we ever saw.
But boys like him are very much inclined
to fall in love with other boys like him.
This tendency to love in that foul way
is an abomination and affront
to all of us who dwell in Israel,
in fertile Galilee, and here in Nain.
Sometimes I looked at him, and wondered what
real carnal knowledge of that beautiful
body might have been---or felt--like; and that
made my skin crawl, and brought the taste of bile
into my throat. And this was far too much
for me to tolerate in myself, or
in him---the cause of those disturbing thoughts,
the cause of dreams made damp with gushes of
lust. Hell no, I would not tolerate more
of this nonsense. I enlisted two close friends;
and at the local inn, provided wine---
the best that was available in Nain.
We talked: we shared a mutual hatred
of queers like Neaniskos. Men like us,
though young, like Neaniskos, would have been
glad to assist the Lord to overthrow
perverse Sodom---but that was long before
our time and far beyond our reach. But we
were glad to satisfy our righteous wrath
on Neaniskos, our chosen victim.
At sunset, we arranged to meet him on
one of Nain's streets---happy coincidence,
or so we called it in his hearing---and
invited him to come to our party.
I do not think he lusted for us: we
were not quite the kind toward which his lust
attracted: he preferred others who bore
resemblance to him---those who danced, or read
love poems, or made bouquets of fresh-cut flowers.