Like all first-generation systems, however, it shuts off very suddenly when you close the twistgrip, making the throttle action choppy in traffic – and the transition from trailing throttle to power-on is sometimes sudden enough to upset the chassis' composure at the apex of a tight corner.

The engine will pull strongly from about 2800rpm, power-thud strongly until 4000 then smooths out and run like an electric motor up to 6000 revs, still pulling hard enough to get the steering very light in the lowest two gears.

It's at its most relaxed in this mid-range, quite happy to rumble along all day at about 150km/h with 5500rpm on the clock in top.

Beyond 6000, the engine begins to vibrate intrusively; above 8000 it's accompanied by a distinctive flat hammering from the airbox that says you are now in the power zone – and you'd better be hanging on tight because this naked bike goes up to 235km/h at 8500rpm in less than a kilometre with possibly a click or two still to come.

If you're unlucky enough to hit the rev-limiter (at 9900rpm) you'll know all about it; not for Ducati the soft retardation of timing to take the edge off the power – the S4R goes on to one cylinder so suddenly it feels like you've blown the engine. It's not something you do deliberately.

Dry clutch

Ducati is the only major manufacturer to use a dry multiplate clutch, combining the best features of German and Japanese units. It's light and superbly progressive but becomes a little grabby when abused.

Ducati's range-topping road racers have some of the best gearboxes on the market; the six-speed unit in the S4 is as slick and positive as its sports brothers and nearly as light in operation.

There's little or no snatch in the final drive and clutchless upshifts are standard procedure – although getting them perfectly seamless takes a little practice thanks to the oversensitive throttle.

The chassis remains faithful to the original Monster concept; it's directly derived from that of the 888 and welded up from short, straight lengths of chrome-molybdenum steel tubing with the engine slung below it.

The single-sided swing arm is new, however, patterned after the fabricated steel-tube structure of the MH900e but in this case comprising a mix of alloy castings and extruded aluminium tubing, neatly welded.

The running gear is by Showa at both ends, the front upside-downies boasting TiN coatings on the stanchions and adjustments for everything bar the phase of the moon. Rear wheel movement is modulated by a fully adjustable piggyback monoshock.

The suspension is at all times firm, sometimes choppy on our bumpy test track, but does a fine job of keeping the rubber on the road. The chassis' misbehaviour isn't due to its springing...

The brakes are no longer state of the art, but Brembo Gold Line equipment is still among the best available. The twin 320mm front discs with four-pot opposed piston callipers are strong (and controllable) enough to have the front tyre howling in protest with two fingers on the lever – and without locking up.

The rear brake is wooden, with little power or feel, but adequate by sports bike standards and unlikely to provoke rear-wheel slides on this short-coupled hooligan tool.

Racing frame

Never forget this frame was designed for racing and intended to be steered by short, steeply angled clip-on handlebars; its wheelbase is only 1440mm and the steering head angle a steep 23º.

The wide, flat 'bars of the Monster transfer every twitch of the rider's shoulders to the front end and the bike steers incredibly quickly – almost too quickly under some circumstances.

Even on a smooth road the bike moves around constantly beneath you, gently shaking its head and wagging its bum on long sweeps, often a few centimetres out of line but never getting you into trouble.

After a while you get you used to it; I was very unsettled the first time I took the S4R over our "ride and handling" track with its sequence of fast, smooth-flowing corners.

So I tried again and realised the bike wasn't about to spit me off, that we would always come out of any corner together and going in the same direction but that there would usually be slight differences of opinion along the way.

Faster average

It was only on my fourth run that I realised I was averaging 15 percent faster through these familiar corners than I normally do on litre-class race replicas; this thing goes, it just doesn't feel planted the way sports bikes do.

It's also very disconcerting for anybody riding with you; few riders will try going round your outside on a fast bend.

Around town the ultra-quick steering lets you cut through the traffic like Wesley Snipes dismembering vampires and the engine's towering mid-range torque makes short work of any gap between cars – although the choppy throttle may make progress rather staccato.

The switchgear and instrumentation are as you would expect on a bike like this - plain, chunky and a little old-fashioned; I liked the white-faced dials with red needles and plain lettering and the separate housing for the warning icoans between them – but then I'm also plain, chunky and old-fashioned.

At first this superb racing engine may seem wasted on a street bike but the Monster is such a magnificent commuter that you soon begin to see the rightness of it.

At high speed just hanging on is a mission; the seat is too deeply dished for all-day comfort and the bars too wide for racetrack work – but it's a champion in its natural habititat, the urban jungle, and the naughtier you get the more it likes it.

The liquid-cooled desmoquattro engine was intended to be fully enclosed; its rat's nest of external plumbing and cabling make for a very untidy installation in the naked Monster chassis, especially on the left (check the gallery and you'll see what I mean).

The stainless-steel exhaust system looks like a set of bagpipes (except for the very tasty twin tailpipes) but the Monster was never intended to be a pretty bike.

It's uncomfortable, uneconomical (I had to fill the 15-litre tank twice in 300km) and unstable; it's also outrageously powerful, incredible fun to ride and attracts more attention than a marching band.

It was built to dominate the inner city, which it does with contemptuous ease.