Two Gentlemen of Lebowski Read online

  Exeunt severally.

  SCENE 3

  THE BIG LEBOWSKI’s castle. Enter THE KNAVE and BRANDT.

  BRANDT

  My lord is a man of accomplishment of many years, good travelling Knave; I pray you examine these honours and colours, proof of life well lived. See here, the key to an old city, once defended against man and beast; and there, a commendation for men of business, bestow’d not by the twelvemonth but by the mettle of the man.

  THE KNAVE

  Is that the Queen I see before me, render’d in oil-paints?

  BRANDT

  Indeed that is Sir Geoffrey of Lebowski, attending the Queen in humble fealty, during her blessèd reign; as Queen, I remind you, not as Princess.

  THE KNAVE

  Faith, an excellent tale.

  BRANDT

  I have not yet told all; indeed Sir Lebowski did counsel the King himself, it is said, though, alas!, uncaptured in timely artistry.

  THE KNAVE

  A man of many faculties.

  BRANDT

  As many as capabilities, yet always one to boost his reach. Here you may glimpse a record of his children.

  THE KNAVE

  A care-crazed father of many children; it is a wise father that knows his own child. An excellent list for a man of no doubt excellent issue.

  BRANDT

  An amiable jest! Nay, I’d call’d his children his, but they come not of his loins, thou understand’st.

  THE KNAVE

  A cuckold, he?

  BRANDT

  A most subtle jest! Nay, but children of the inner city, of good promise, sworn to study but without the means. My lord resolves that they will all attend the university.

  THE KNAVE

  Verily!—Mine own years in the university hath fled my memory, though I recall some happy hours in the homes of various headmasters, the smoking of the pipe, breaking into the armoury, and playing at ninepins.

  Enter LEBOWSKI, on a cart. Exit BRANDT.

  LEBOWSKI

  Marry, sir!—You be Lebowski, I be Lebowski, ’tis a wondrous strange comedy of errors. But I am a man of business, as I imagine you are; tell me what you’d have me do for you.

  THE KNAVE

  Sir, I possess a rug, that, i’faith, tied the room together—

  LEBOWSKI

  You sent Brandt a messenger on horseback; he inform’d me. How dost thou find me most fit for business?

  THE KNAVE

  They sought thee, these two gentlemen—

  LEBOWSKI

  I shall repeat; you sent Brandt a messenger on horseback; he inform’d me.

  THE KNAVE

  Then thou art aware ’twas thy rug, sir, that was the target of this crime.

  LEBOWSKI

  Was it I, sir, who had a varlet’s gift

  To rain a shower on commanded rugs,

  And set it in a shower of gold, i’faith?

  THE KNAVE

  Not in person, sir—but if a man is his name, and his reputation his indelible inkstain, surely thy sea of care is tormented; what tongue shall smooth thy name?

  LEBOWSKI

  Make me to understand, sir, for you are slow of speech as I of step, and I am unsatisfied in motive. When upon any carpet consideration the rain it raineth within these city walls, must I stand accountable? Or are you as one of a thousand rogues, fishing for sixpence betwixt another man’s purse-strings? Are you a labourer, Master Lebowski, earning that you eat, getting that you wear?

  THE KNAVE

  Let me not to the marriage of false impressions deny impediments. I am not Master Lebowski; thou art Master Lebowski. I am the Knave, call’d the Knave. Or His Knaveness, or mayhap

  Knaver, or mayhap El Knaverino, in the manner of the Spaniard, if brevity be not in thy soul nor wit. A Knave by any other name would abide just as well.

  LEBOWSKI

  Hast thou employment, sirrah? Surely you hope not to pledge fealty nor till the earth in such roughly fashion’d armour, invested in thy motley, clad as a jack-a-dandy on a Sunday?

  THE KNAVE

  I know not; what week-day, friend, is this?

  Armour.

  LEBOWSKI

  I tire, and cannot tarry; I am more busy than the labouring spider, and dwell on the iron tread as a man of constant pursuits. Thus, I pray you, you this way and I that way.

  THE KNAVE

  I must protest; the Knave mindeth. This will not stand, this uncheck’d aggression; for your strength of mighty kings and masters of the earth did not keep your wife from owing, a borrower and a lender being.

  LEBOWSKI

  How does my wife? She’s not the issue here; my shrewish wife hath a way with will, but I toil in hopes that she will shed her frivolities, rash and unadvised, and live within her allowance, which is in very ample virtue. Her mortal failures are her burden, as surely as your rug is your burden, and, verily, the burdens of every man be his own, and ’tis in themselves that they be thus or thus. I’ll blame none for the loss of my legs. Some man of Orient birth robbed them from me as spoils of war; faith, who stole my legs stole trash, and I sallied forth and achieved in any aspect. Some are born achievers, some achieve greatly, and some have achievement thrust upon ’em. Beseech me not!

  THE KNAVE

  Ah, a pox upon’t!

  LEBOWSKI

  Indeed! ‘A pox upon’t!’ ’Tis thine answer to everything. Your merry revels have ended, sir. Let us condole the knight. The rogues lost; the rogues have always lost, will always lose, and so will it be tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

  Exit LEBOWSKI; enter BRANDT.

  BRANDT

  Good Master Lebowski. Did you enjoy meeting my honourable lord?

  THE KNAVE

  Truly, sir, a nobleman most gentle;

  He bade me take any rug in the castle.

  Exeunt.

  SCENE 4

  Outside LEBOWSKI’s castle. Enter THE KNAVE (with a Persian rug) and BRANDT.

  BRANDT

  I pray you, Knave, remember us in future visitations.

  THE KNAVE

  Faith, surely when next I near this neighbourhood, I will call upon his lordship’s good honour, and beseech his refreshment.

  Enter BONNIE and OLIVER.

  BONNIE

  [sings]

  ‘With toe-nails of verdant and forester’s green

  With a hey-nonny-no and a hey-nonny-nonny

  Blow thrice on my toe-nails and I’ll be thy queen

  And ever preserve me as thine, blithe and Bonnie.’

  [to THE KNAVE]

  I pray you, sir, blow.

  THE KNAVE

  Marry! But here’s a lady of good interest, whose toe-nails are the very green of the common hump, where grass doth grow and where country lovers do foot. Whither shall I blow, maid? For I am but a travelling tumble-weed, and may well be carried by any wind, e’en south.

  BONNIE

  I mean only the wind in thine own maw in this case; blow, then, serve your turn and cool my hot temper.

  THE KNAVE

  Sayest thou that I must blow upon thy foot, painted lady?

  BONNIE

  I ask this deed of you thrice now; and that which a damsel craves constantly is the service of a tongue most moved in capability. Look to my foot; I cannot reach that far. Blow, wind!

  THE KNAVE

  I fear thy charms. Will not thy consort mind

  If I bestow his lady fair my wind?

  BONNIE

  Nay, there’s naught for which Oliver carest; He mindeth not, for he’s a nihilist.

  THE KNAVE

  O exhausting condition!

  BRANDT

  Our court’s noble guest must not tarry, Lady Lebowski.

  THE KNAVE

  Lady Lebowski? Then thou art Bonnie? A merry wife indeed!

  BONNIE

  And a lady of good housekeeping and agriculture besides, minded to economy and all practicalities. Were thou to bring a gentle cock to my bed-chamber, I might help him to
success for ten shillings.

  A cock.

  THE KNAVE

  Such a lady of talents I have scarcely seen.

  BRANDT

  Yes, a most forthright jest! Free of spirit and good generosity, she is the nimble nymph of Neptune, and we mark her with good humour.

  BONNIE

  Free of spirit but ne’er free for flesh. Were I to regale thee with parts of my humour, I would not bid Brandt hear the play ere he paid a shilling himself.

  BRANDT

  Hark, a marvelous jest; but, I pray you, we dare not tarry. Come, Knave.

  THE KNAVE

  Yea, I shall come, and then return with money,

  Or lose the labour’d love of fair Bonnie.

  Exeunt.

  SCENE 5

  A bowling green.

  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 an untamed shrew 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. Can she not board the beast with some gentle farmer or country shepherdess?

  WALTER

  I pray thee, speak not of rites 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 mine eight of nine pins; mark it eight.

  WALTER

  Not eight but l’oeuf:; 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. 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 wreaths and triumphs. Hear’st thou

  The robin redbreast’s call? 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.

  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, the constable is notified. I pray you, sheath thy piece.

  A sword.

  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.

  Pacifists.

  WALTER

  How absolute the Knave is!—

  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 fra
gile 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 words are straight and true. But yet thou speakest not, for thou hast not spoken but bray’d, in the manner of an ass.

  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-push’d 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 conceived

  In upright spirit, meant for noble deeds,

  May cited be by devils for their purpose.

  Mark well 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.