What if William Shakespeare wrote The Big Lebowski?

[Toast]

Two Gentlemen of Lebowski

[The bowling green. Enter THE KNAVE, WALTER (with a dog), and JACK SMOKE, to play at ninepins]

WALTER
Thy tale is the stuff of dreams, and yet a waking dream of will. I had those words under a spreading tree in Jerusalem.

THE KNAVE
An I were dreaming afore, I care not, but do I dream anew? What manner of beast bringest thou to our nightly sport?

WALTER
Marry, ‘tis the remnant of a previous life’s nightly sport. That I was once a married man, thou knowest well; that the Lady Cynthia was a great lover of dogs, thou know’st in lesser degree; and the cur abandon’d has a tendency to dine upon chair-leg and oaken table, most retrograde to my lady’s desire.

THE KNAVE
Thou speakest in riddles.

WALTER
It hath been my charge to attend this cur ere my Lady Cynthia return ashore from a voyage to the islands, commanded by Sir Martin of Ackerman.

THE KNAVE
Thou bringest a cur to ninepins?

WALTER
I bring naught to ninepins. The dog is not attired by my hand to play at sport, nor do I fetch it ale, nor shall he throw thy bowl-turn in thy stead.

THE KNAVE
Why, this is lunatics! This is mad as a mad dog! Were I a cuckold of such horn, and a wench bade me mind her animal passions on maiden voyages, whilst men of lesser virtue did swim in foreign waters and seek the isle within the brook, marry, I would cry out “Go hang!”, and leave the cur to fall where he may. Canst she not board the beast with some gentle farmer or country shepherdess?

WALTER
I pray thee, speak not of marriage; for here a man calleth vinegar the wine he hath not himself imbibed.
The cur is one of consequence, admired
In circles of husbandry, with well-noted
Documentation of his qualities;
And if ‘twere spook’d, it might lose hide and hair.
The cur hath parchments—

THE KNAVE
Hark, now bowls Jack Smoke.

WALTER
Thou cross’st the line!

JACK SMOKE
Your pardon, noble sir?

WALTER
Thou cross’st the line, Jack Smoke, O cavalier,
As clearly demarcated in our rules,
In tumbling past the throw. ‘Tis play most foul.

JACK SMOKE
But see the pins struck down in fair play’s course!
Knave, mark thou mine eight pins; mark it eight.

WALTER
Not eight but l’ouef; you’ll mark it nought, O Knave,
And so we carry on to the next frame.

JACK SMOKE
Peace, Sir Walter!

WALTER
Smokey, this be not the foul jungles of the darkest East Orient. This be ninepins. We are bound by laws.

THE KNAVE
Nay, Walter; the quality of mercy is hardly strain’d. But a fraction of his toe tripp’d over the line, not God’s line but man’s. Of late I have read much of toe-nails, meaningful, I grant thee, but of doubtable value. Suit the punishment to the action, and shame not Smoke in sport.

WALTER
O unrightful judge!
This forfeiture is set in iron law
As drawn by great authority of league.
One roll might well determine that our side
Advance to glory; or be instead retired
As moss upon a tree-stump, while the Smoke
Drifts out to glorious summer. Canst thou hear
The call of robin redbreasts? If robin shall
Restore amends, we must serve justice
Here. Be I wrong?

JACK SMOKE
Yea, but—

WALTER
Be I wrong?

JACK SMOKE
Thy words are hard; I must equivocate.
Put up thy pen, that I may mark it eight.

WALTER
Nay! I do protest, and draw my sword;
It shall teach thee to disobey my word.
Mark none but none into that bowler’s frame,
Else thou shalt enter into a world of pain.
A world of pain, think upon’t; unhappy world!
A lake of fire, rich with damnèd souls,
Gulfs of anguish ‘twixt vales of agonies.
Mark me; we stand at twisted, jealous gates
Of cast-iron, above which, in vulgar tongue, reads
“Here is a world of pain, thou enterest thus.”
My steel before thee, ‘tis the last of keys
That might could lock these doors, and keep thee
From this world of pain, or with one flick
Ope its mashing maw, and summon winds
To cast thee down within; an excellent key!
Farewell to earthly delights, farewell to friends,
To fellowships and follies and amends.
The choice to spare thy passage through these trials
Is thine alone; take heed, I entreat thee,
And turn thy back upon this world of pain!

THE KNAVE
Walter, put up thy sword; tarry a moment.

WALTER
Hath this whole world been mired in madness?
Remain ye men of faculty complete,
Of full arithmetic and prudence fair,
Attending to our noble bond and contract?
Or does here stand the last remaining man
To give a fig for rules and order yet,
No noble savage, but a stave unbroken
Who loves the law and bids it no misdeed.
I’ll not be bent to lawlessness. Mark it nought, if we be men of honour.

THE KNAVE
Walter, too long we have tarried on public fields; the constable is notified. I pray you, sheath thy piece.

WALTER
Mark it nought, else I’ll none.

JACK SMOKE
Good Sir Walter, speak with reason!

WALTER
Dost thou think I tarry idly? Mark it nought!

JACK SMOKE
Yea, I shall yield, and leave it to your pleasure.
Mark as thou wilt, in full and legal measure.

[Exit JACK SMOKE. WALTER sits]

THE KNAVE
In sooth, Walter, thou hast wounded me horribly.
Jack Smoke is cut of cloth alike my humour;
Peaceable men we, for peaceable times,
And Jack Smoke is a man of soft conscience.

WALTER
That he is conscious, I mark thee; I attend well.
In tender youth I dabbled in a course
To seek and hear moral philosophy.
Encount’ring pacifism on that road,
Though ne’er in Orient jungle, beshrew me; yet
I thought upon’t e’en on fields of war.

THE KNAVE
Thou markest that Jack Smoke hath woes of mind.

WALTER
Faith, beyond pacifism?

THE KNAVE
He is a man of fragility, sir, and like to shatter.

WALTER
“Like”; yet I mark not his fragile dust,
Nor saw him break, nor melt, nor cleave in two.
The heated moment passeth, river-tide
Below a bridge in Exeter. Speak, Knave,
Are we not victorious in our sport?
We progress as do rakes; or be I wrong?

THE KNAVE
No, thou speakest true—

WALTER
Be I wrong?

THE KNAVE
No, sir, thy speech is straight and true. But yet thou speakest not, for thou hast not spoken but brayed, in the manner of an ass.

WALTER
Fair; then I am an ass; let it be writ down that I am an ass. Then, mark well; the Knave and his partner, an ass, shall play again at ninepins in half a fortnight, their skills match’d against Joshua Quince and Liam O’Brien. They worry me not; they shall be o’er-pushed with certitude.

THE KNAVE
An we play again in seven days and seven nights, I pray you, be of good humour.

WALTER
“Be of good humour!” ‘Tis thine answer to everything.
Mark: thy peaceable nature, while conceiv’d
In upright spirit, meant for noble deeds,
May cited be by devils for their purpose.
Mark the Arab king in foreign land,
The base Mesopotamian, who lieth with steed.
Thou present’st to me a wall to hide behind
‘Twas born of truce in fear and frighten’d mind.

THE KNAVE
I pray you, be of good humour.

WALTER
I am as calm as still waters, Knave.

THE KNAVE
As steel waters, I’ll warrant; put up thy
Icy blade! Crack not gory tales of war!

WALTER
My calmness exceeds thine.

THE KNAVE
Be of ease, I pray you! Be of good cheer,
And let us not repeat what happen’d here!

WALTER
My calmness exceeds thine. But hark; here comes a visitor.

[Enter BRANDT]

BRANDT
All hail, good sir, honour’d Lebowski, hail!
‘Tis I, one Brandt by name, humble servant still
To he whose name you recognise so well.
Wilt thou tarry with me a moment? Nay—
Fear not—we care not for the rug.
By carriage I would bring you to his lordship
Secluded in his castle’s western wing,
Saith none to any man or good counsel,
Despondent to the last; thus I despair.
I call on thine assistance, gentle Knave.

THE KNAVE
Thou hast spoke plain, and I shall be thy guest.
Let us away to take Lebowski’s quest.

[Exeunt]

[Mo]

[ryan patrick]

what if Sir Francis Bacon wrote William Shakespeare's The Big Lebowski