Shakespeare's Two Gentleman Of Lebowski

This was written by a Mr Adam Bertocci, who would probably be a very good friend of mine if we ever met.  What he has done is taken one of the finest collections of the written word from modern times, the glorious script that is The Coen Brother's The Big Lebowski, and placed it through some sort of Shakespearean imitation machine.  As a side note I would like to order one of those soon please, if only to run another one of the finest collections of the written word from modern times, the lyrics to LFO's unbelievably fantastic analysis of a seasonal girl's appearance, Summer Girls.  Besides, there's even a line about the old barb in there.

"When you take a sip you buzz like a hornet, Billy Shakespeare wrote a whole bunch of sonnets."

You can read the entire Two Gentlemen of Lebowski over here.  For now one of my favorite passages, you should be able to distinguish that The Dude has been transformed into The Knave

WALTER
I speak of this other man, Sir Geoffrey of Lebowski. Is not thy name, sir, Geoffrey of Lebowski? To be or not Lebowski, that is the question; I see we still did meet each other’s man. Shall we not make amends? A gentleman of high sentence ought to be of unsequestered location, possessed of resources fit to restore a thousand rugs from vile offence. He’s not well married that lets his wife a borrower be, such that men gravely offended bespoil another man’s rug. Be I wrong?

THE KNAVE
No, but verily—

WALTER
Be I wrong?

THE KNAVE
Yea, but verily—

WALTER
That rug, in faith, tied the room together, did it not?

THE KNAVE
By my heart, a goodly rug.

DONALD
And in most miserable tide did this rogue besmirch it.

WALTER
Prithee, Donald! Thou too eagerly hold’st the mirror up to nature.

THE KNAVE
My mind races; I might endeavour to seek this gentleman Lebowski.

DONALD
His name is Lebowski? Verily, ope thine ear; that is thy name, Knave!

THE KNAVE
On good authority; and his nobleness must oblige. His wife taketh up quarrel and borrows, and they bespoil my rug.

WALTER
Marry, sir, my heartstrings do you tug;
They urinate upon thy damnèd rug.

[Exeunt severally]

[via]