Two Gentlemen of Lebowski
Page 6
With many ins and outs, as I have said.
MAUDE arranges herself upon the floor.
MAUDE
The money’s the foundation’s, not the man’s.
My father hath no money of his own;
The wealth was his inheritance to tend
And pompously he claims it as his crop.
O vanity of Father! Fierce extremes
Of personality he built so as to seem
The wide world’s emperor; and hence the whore,
So purchased as to sate his glory-thirst.
THE KNAVE
Wherefore thy strange position on the floor?
MAUDE
I crave a young conception in my womb,
And seat me thus to better take thy seed.
THE KNAVE
But I a father poorly made would be!
MAUDE
Nay, I seek no partner in this babe;
I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
Our comedy ends not with marriage-bed,
I’ll live unpartner’d, and unbotherèd.
Marriage.
THE KNAVE
Marry! Then thou wouldst have a child of bastard blood, without a father, as thou thyself might well have wish’d to have no father; but now I think upon thy father, and lo, new stuff doth come to light breaking forth. My thinking on thy sorry case had become most up-tighten’d, and I am altogether govern’d by humours. Quickly, away! I must to Sir Walter.
Exeunt.
SCENE 5
The road. Enter THE KNAVE.
THE KNAVE
I wait upon the coming of Sir Walter
Who, on my dispatch, flew him to emerge
That we might charge Lebowski in his guilt
And right these monstrous wrongs ere Evensong.
Enter BROTHER SEAMUS.
Monks, location unknown.
Who’s there?
BROTHER SEAMUS
Be still! I’ll harm thy person not.
’Tis I, the Brother Seamus, Irish monk—
A man the finer having seen thee work,
A stalking spy for private clientele,
A dirk; a man who seeketh for to find.
THE KNAVE
That’s well; but keep thee from my lady friend.
BROTHER SEAMUS
I never tempted her with word too large;
I knew her not thy special lady fair.
THE KNAVE
She’s not my special lady but my friend;
I help’d her swell her womb. Who hired thee?
Art thou a servant of Lebowski state,
Or Jaques Treehorn, or some goblin damn’d?
BROTHER SEAMUS
I travel on the charge of sons of knights,
A job of wand’ring daughters from the north.
The lady Bonnie’s falsely bonny bred.
Her name be Faun, a girl of Moorhead born,
Whose parents wish her back with broken hearts;
This past twelvemonth she fled the family farm
And I’m to show her paintings of the land.
THE KNAVE
The lady’s love for paint is plain to see,
But she hath seen Karl Hungus, and is like
To not exchange it for pastoral life.
BROTHER SEAMUS
Alack the day! O fairest damsel lost!
It is a false steward that steals a master’s daughter.
Mayhap we might our slim resources pool,
Exchange our facts in noble courtesy,
In friendship and professionality.
THE KNAVE
Nay, for thou art none the finer man.
Away, sirrah; my ride approacheth nigh.
And stay away from special lady mine,
Or lady friend, as I would have it writ.
Exit BROTHER SEAMUS; enter WALTER (with dog).
WALTER
Thy messenger decreed emergency
And so I broke my vows of Sabbath pure,
For this the holy day of resting be
For gentle Jews; now state thy purpose, Knave.
THE KNAVE
We must away to old Lebowski’s house
To press him on the matter of this case.
We botch’d his bargain with the villains vile
That night, and in his anger, though he yell’d,
He visited no harm upon my head
Nor render’d my weak body punishèd.
WALTER
Mayhaps the gentle soul’s catharsis lay
In shouting at thee.
THE KNAVE
Nay; a game’s afoot.
He knows I am a fool; I do agree,
But why wouldst he me charge to save his wife?
Methinks the man despised his lady fair
And plotted ill to profit from her loss
And in his sinning sought to make a show.
I’ll tell thee this; he gave me no true gold
Nor jewels, nor any treasure of accord
To toss the thieves; nor effort has he made
To have of me the haul from him I stole.
Methinks the money that we thought was lost
Was never thus, but weight like laundries thine:
Our ringer was a ringer for the same
In odious Lebowski’s rotten game.
WALTER
O double falsehood of distressed lovers!
I mark thee, and pay tribute to thy wits,
Deduction noble made, but all the same
Must query quick the nature of this crime
That leads me out of doors on Sabbath eve.
THE KNAVE
Sir Walter, prithee cease; thou art no Jew.
Of Papists born in Poland was thy line.
WALTER
Thou knowest I converted ere I wed
The Lady Cynthia.
THE KNAVE
But that is past;
Five twelvemonths cross’d the sky since thou were wed.
WALTER
’Tis true, I have in oath and court of law
Made a divorce betwixt Cynthia and me,
But doth equivocation turn a heart?
When justice calls a Jew into the court
Must not a Jew emerge? Is he anew?
May I no more of libraries borrow,
Or push my cart, or be my selfsame man?
The Hebrew turns not Christian; he is rock.
THE KNAVE
Thy sickness for fair Cynthia is sad;
Thou carest for her cur, though are not wed,
And still her synagogue thou dost attend.
Thou livest in the most accursèd past.
WALTER
Forsooth! Three thousand years of history,
Traditions beauteous from Moses on:
Thou speakest damnèd truth, and speakest best,
I am a man to live in bygone past!
But let’s away; the big Lebowski waits,
And fate rewards no man who hesitates.
Exeunt.
TWO GENTLEMEN
OF
LEBOWSKI
ACT 5
ACT 5
SCENE 1
LEBOWSKI’s castle. Flourish. Enter THE KNAVE, WALTER, and BONNIE.
THE KNAVE
Look well on Bonnie, something like the sun.
She hath been in her cups, and singing brave
Converting all her sounds of woe into Hey-nonny-nonny; hark.
BONNIE
Long live the meadows! Let us have a song.
[sings]
‘But when I came to Lebowski estate
With hey, ho, the fountain doth rain
I used my car to batter the gate
For the Knave abideth every day.
And when I came, alas! to wive
With hey, ho, the fountain doth rain
By swaggering could I constantly thrive
For the Knave abideth every day.’
Exit BONNIE; enter BRANDT.
BRA
NDT
Thine eyes deceive thee not; the lady lives,
No longer vanishèd; what’s lost is found.
She left to see the palmer at the springs
And told no man that she would go away.
Good Knave, I pray thee, bother not my lord,
For he is angry; prithee, who is this?
WALTER
I’ll tell thee who I am; a veteran, I,
A soldier of the honour-giving field
Of mire and muck and fens; we’ll have thy lord.
Exit BRANDT; enter LEBOWSKI on his cart.
LEBOWSKI
Beshrew me! That my door be darken’d thus
By this foul cheat who found me not my bride.
THE KNAVE
Whither the money, Lebowski?
WALTER
A thousand pounds from young achievers robb’d!
O rude and vilest villain! Coward curst!
A most notable coward of no quality
Whose tongue outvenoms all the worms of Nile.
Thou art as loathsome as a toad, thou vice,
A bolting-hutch of beastliness, thou mite,
Thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool!
A toad.
LEBOWSKI
Thou hast thy history and I have mine.
I say that ye hath stole my thousand pounds.
WALTER
O wound! I wouldst not dream to filch thy wealth.
THE KNAVE
Thou art a villain, human paroquet!
Thou thought thy wife vanish’d, and thought it well!
Thou hadst met me and thought my mettle right
To be thy pawn, a man of ill repute
Who circles not amidst men of good square,
That thou might use to shuffle gold about.
LEBOWSKI
Well? Art thou not a man of no regard,
A greasy tallow husk of failèd flesh?
THE KNAVE
Perchance.
WALTER
Tush, tush; let’s speak of him instead.
An infinite and endless liar, he.
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men.
I’ve seen my share of spines a-damagèd;
This sinner stands to walk most capably.
Stand now, O villain! Up upon thy feet!
LEBOWSKI
Step back, I prithee; stay not close to me.
WALTER
Up, so! How is’t? Feel you your legs? You stand.
I bid thee walk afoot, if thou be man!
He casts LEBOWSKI from his cart; LEBOWSKI falls.
_____________
THE KNAVE
O, he hath fallen!
WALTER
’Pon my life, I might have sworn he had his sea-legs.
THE KNAVE
Thou art a fool and of thee I despair.
We must away; let’s help him to his chair.
They set him back into his cart. Exeunt.
SCENE 2
‘War in far-flung jungles, as my friends Did die face-down in mire and muck and fens!’
The bowling green. Enter THE KNAVE and WALTER.
WALTER
No doubt we’ll see some armour’d conflict yet,
Some battle fare unto the morning’s war.
But fighting in the arid desert be
A diff’ring beast from skirmishes as I
Experienced in jungles canopied.
That was a soldier’s war, by Jove, whereas
This thing shall be as cake, and warm within.
I had me but my bow and quiver set,
No heavy horse; ’twas I and good Sir Charles,
’Twere face to face and eye to eye opposed.
Enter DONALD.
That be combat, forsooth; the man in black,
An adversary worthy on the mount.
DONALD
Walter, pray, who be attired in black?
WALTER
Hold thy tongue, Donald—I speak of men,
Not eaters of the fig in motley clad
Affirming to ride bareback in reverse.
These men be none of worth, and I’ll have none.
Enter QUINCE and O’BRIEN.
QUINCE
Thou dunce, thou varlet; whence this day of rest?
To bowl on Sabbath matters not to me
And fools me not; it may deceive the leaguesmen,
But none of woman born fools Joshua.
Thy games of mind are fit for childrens’ spoils,
And laughable; my act is but delay’d,
For if I will not have thee Saturday
I’ll surely have my way with thee mid-week.
This Wednesday thou and I a-courting go;
Think well on it!
Exeunt QUINCE and O’BRIEN.
WALTER
By my life, he cracks.
THE KNAVE
Think not on him till Wednesday, for the game;
Our worries stretch to higher fruit than he.
Look well: the nihilists approach our green
And bring Greek fire to our quiet lot.
My burning car doth hotly scorch the earth!
The weary moon hath shone upon our park
And lit the burnt husk of my fiery car!
Greek fire.
Alarums. Enter OLIVER and the NIHILISTS.
It hath finally been done. They made my car to shuffle off the mortal coil.
OLIVER
Money buys lands, Lebowski, and wives are slain by fate; we’ll be poisonous and kill thy forlorn queen.
THE KNAVE
Ye have not th’accursed girl, ye ninnies! We know ye never had so comely a maid.
DONALD
Be these the tyrants, Sir Walter?
WALTER
Nay! These nihilists be, and none to fear.
But few of any sort, and none of name.
OLIVER
We would have the money in any case, else we visit much grievous damage upon your persons.
WALTER
Nay! Thou hast no hostage to avenge:
Thy ransom there is none but we shall pay!
We’ll not obey that know not ransom’s rules,
Ye cabbage-fed foul sons of ugly curs!
FIRST NIHILIST
Verily did his consort give her toe
In hopes of seeking gold a thousandfold.
SECOND NIHILIST
It is not fair; ’tis foul but never fair!
WALTER
And wherefore ‘fair’, when ye be nihilists?
Wherefore the nihilist weeps and cries for ‘fair’?
Thy dispute is of infants, weeping woes,
Spoke as an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Believing in nothing.
THE KNAVE
Walter, pray be still.
Good nihilist, the money never was;
Yon big Lebowski gave me empty wares,
So take thy quarrel up his lordship’s way.
WALTER
And I request my breeches ere we part!
DONALD
In sooth, I fear they’ll hurt us ere we fly.
WALTER
Not so! They cowards be, and amateurs.
OLIVER
’Tis well; we’ll take what minor gold ye have
In doublets thine, and all’s well that ends well.
WALTER
Fie on thee! What’s mine is ever mine.
THE KNAVE
Nay, let’s end cheaply; four sixpence I hold.
‘We bleed on both sides’
DONALD
And eighteen further in my saddlebag.
OLIVER
The gold, anon! Or I’ll be set on thee.
WALTER
What’s mine is mine; lay on, nihilist,
And damn’d be he that nine-toed woman kiss’d!
They fight.
DONALD
Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God’s sake, pity my case. I shall never be able to fight a blo
w. O Lord, my heart!
OLIVER
[to WALTER]
I firk thee! I firk thee! Verily I firk thee!
WALTER
We bleed on both sides. Have at you now!
OLIVER
I firk thee!
They fight, and the NIHILISTS die.
WALTER
Ever thus to haters of Jewry!
DONALD falls.
DONALD
O, I am slain!
_____________
THE KNAVE
Hark, hark! Man down! Walter, they shot him thus!
WALTER
No, Knave; no bowstring ever arrow left.
His heart is weak; a heart easily daunted.
Hear, hear how dying Sir Donald doth groan!
DONALD
O, I die, Lebowski;
The potent fervour quite o’er-crows my spirit.
Thou hast my dying voice; the rest is silence.
He dies.
WALTER
Alas, sweet friend! Now we shall mourn for thee,
O could our mourning ease our misery!
Exeunt, carrying DONALD.
SCENE 3
A churchyard. Enter THE KNAVE, WALTER, and a GRAVEDIGGER carrying a spade and a pickaxe.
GRAVEDIGGER
I greet ye, an ye are the men bereaved,
And mark ye well to escort the remains
Of your late friend to fields Elysian.
Look to the urn; let’s settle now the fee.
WALTER
The urn is well, but we demand it not;
We seek to send the ashes scatter-shot.
_____________
GRAVEDIGGER
’Twas said, but ashes must be given ye
In a receptacle of quality.
’Tis coroner’s quest law; will it suffice?
For this receptacle be humbly priced.
A gravedigger.
THE KNAVE
Might men of modest means who need thine urn
Be borrowers of it till our return?
WALTER
Sorrow and grief hath vanquish’d not our powers;
We are not saplings weak in tragic hours.
Come, good Knave; to market we shall send,
A jar we’ll buy to honour fallen friends.
Exeunt.
SCENE 4
A cliffside. Enter THE KNAVE and WALTER, with a jar of clay.
WALTER
Words, words, words. I’ll speak.
A glooming peace this morning with it brings:
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head.
We come here to have talk of these sad things;
Of Donald, who we loved, and who bowlèd.
He was a straight and true bowler, and a virtuous man. He was of our sort, a man who loved the woods free from peril of the envious court. And he loved bowling well. He knew the pebbles on the hungry beach. And yea, he was a bowler most avid. And