[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.
If you aren’t already laughing, you can move along to the next post now.
[THE KNAVE’s house. THE KNAVE is in his bath]
I am conducted to a gentle bath.
Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this Knave
Clean from the land?
[Alarums. Enter OLIVER and the two NIHILISTS, bearing a marmot]
Forsooth! This be a place
Of residence, and much a private place.—
O excellent marmot!
Anon, we crave the money, Lebowski.
We speak in neither jest nor fallacy.
We could do such stuff as dreams do feature,
Believing in nothing; empty and void.
Tomorrow if thou hast not the ransom
We shall recourse, and cut off thy Johnson.
Sam, of course, plays the Chorus.
Ay, there’s a good one. How fares the Knave?
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Such a day, I mark thee, whereupon the winter of our discontent is ne’er made glorious summer. A gentleman wiser than myself did say that on some such days, thou exits, pursued by a bear, and on others, the bear exits, pursued by you.
By my troth, a good philosophy. Was’t of the Orient?
Nay, far from it. I mark well thy fashion, good Knave.
And I thy fashion, stranger.
If this post isn’t just meaningless ramblings to you, go see it all.