JONATHAN CHAIT JANUARY 7, 2010
Oh my God. It's the entire script of The Big Lebowski as Shakespeare. This is so good I'm publishing multiple excerpts. Here's the beginning:
[THE KNAVE's house. Enter THE KNAVE, carrying parcels, and two THUGS. They fight]
Whither the money, Lebowski? Faith, we are servants of Bonnie; promised by the lady good that thou in turn were good for’t.
Bound in honour, we must have our bond; cursed be our tribe if we forgive thee.
Let us soak him in the commode, so as to turn his head.
Aye, and see what vapourises; then he will see what is foul.
[They insert his head into the commode]
What dreadful noise of waters in thine ears! Thou hast cooled thine head; think now upon drier matters.
Speak now on ducats else again we’ll thee duckest; whither the money, Lebowski?
Faith, it awaits down there someplace; prithee let me glimpse again.
What, thou rash egg! Thus will we drown thine exclamations.
[They again insert his head into the commode]
Trifle not with the fury of two desperate men. Long has thy wife sealed a bond with Jaques Treehorn; as blood is to blood, surely thou owest to Jaques Treehorn in recompense.
Rise, and speak wisely, man—but hark;
I see thy rug, as woven i’the Orient,
A treasure from abroad. I like it not.
I’ll stain it thus; ever thus to deadbeats.
[He stains the rug]
Sir, prithee nay!
Now thou seest what happens, Lebowski, when the agreements of honourable business stand compromised. If thou wouldst treat money as water, flowing as the gentle rain from heaven, why, then thou knowest water begets water; it will be a watery grave your rug, drowned in the weeping brook. Pray remember, Lebowski.
Thou err’st; no man calls me Lebowski. Yet thou art man; neither spirit damned nor wandering shadow, thou art solid flesh, man of woman born. Hear rightly, man!—for thou hast got the wrong man. I am the Knave, man; Knave in nature as in name.
Thy name is Lebowski. Thy wife is Bonnie.