“You can thread the Bentley with as much confidence as the DB9. Its steering is so well judged.” (Charlie Magee/Autocar photo) » More Photos

As you brush the throttle in the Benz and its 4950lb frame leaps forward, you do get the feeling that employing 737lb-ft in everyday use is a bit like turning up to a local fireworks display with a Saturn 5 on the back of a low-loader.

Obviously, exhaust-driven superchargers in the north-west of England aren’t as strong as those from southern Germany. The Speed GT nearly matches the Merc’s output, with 602hp from just under 6.0 liters. However, the torque figure, at 553lb-ft, is nearly 200lb-ft less than the CL’s, although it does arrive below 1750rpm, giving all Speed GT drivers the knowledge that, at parking speeds, they have enough shove at their disposal to flatten a large grocery store. It is also slightly cheaper, at $195k to the Merc’s $198k (although with the optional ceramic discs, they are virtually identically priced).

The Bentley ambles north with minimal fuss. Wind noise is negligible, the seats are exemplary and, with the warmers set to transmit mild heat to my bottom, I see no need to drive anything else for the moment. Peering through the car’s rooster tail at the Aston’s flailing wipers behind, I’d say I’ve made the correct choice for this leg of the drive, even if I’m finding it hard to uncover many of the detail changes made over the standard GT. The ride is very good, though: level, supremely damped and – rare, this, in something with such buxom rubber – quiet.

“You can thread the Bentley with as much confidence as the DB9. Its steering is so well judged.” (Charlie Magee/Autocar photo) » More Photos

But the moment the topography changes and we begin to head west, the Speed GT becomes a very different car. I have never been drawn to the base Conti GT, as much because of its disappointing dynamics as the fact that I don’t especially like the way it looks (personal choice, I know), but this car is something far, far more appetizing. There was always a suspicion that something very special lurked unrequited in that car; with this hot version, they’ve coaxed it from hibernation. It’s a real surprise.

OK, it doesn’t feel all that much faster, but the manner in which it covers ground and the way it responds to inputs would suggest that it needs a new name. It really is that much of a step forward. And if the torque deficit to the Mercedes looks worrying on paper, it disappears under the prevailing weather conditions. Horizontal rain is dousing the road and claimed figures mean nothing compared to net usability. In the Bentley, you toe it and it goes. Do the same in the Benz and the electronics act like some frenzied rodeo rider tackling a frothing bull; the yellow light flickers incessantly. It may have the potential to provide 737lb-ft, but it must translate to less than half of that figure in such conditions.

It also feels like a very big machine, the CL. At a cruise it is actually a little better than the Bentley. The ride is slightly more cushioned and it removes the occupants even further from the outside world. But it has nothing of the Bentley’s athleticism as dual lane recedes to single lane.
With the loss of the B-post, pillarless versions of the S-class platform have always felt as though they’ve lost significant torsional stiffness, and this new version is no different. The steering column judders under duress, and even though the damping is mostly excellent, it sends great crashes into the cabin once the frequency of suspension movement reaches a speed that it considers too aggressive. It must be noted that you have to be traveling at rather large speeds to trigger such a reaction and that, mostly, the CL never feels anything other than composed; nor does it want its driver to push quite so hard.