The Queen’s own English, base knave, dost thou speak it?

This entry was published at least two years ago (originally posted on April 19, 2008). Since that time the information may have become outdated or my beliefs may have changed (in general, assume a more open and liberal current viewpoint). A fuller disclaimer is available.

A bit of pseudo-Shakespearean silliness, originally by ceruleanst:

ACT I SCENE 2. A road, morning. Enter a carriage, with JULES and VINCENT, murderers.

J: And know’st thou what the French name cottage pie?
V: Say they not cottage pie, in their own tongue?
J: But nay, their tongues, for speech and taste alike
   Are strange to ours, with their own history:
   Gaul knoweth not a cottage from a house.
V: What say they then, pray?
J: Hachis Parmentier.
V: Hachis Parmentier! What name they cream?
J: Cream is but cream, only they say le crème.
V: What do they name black pudding?
J: I know not;
   I visited no inn it could be bought.


J: My pardon; did I break thy concentration?
   Continue! Ah, but now thy tongue is still.
   Allow me then to offer a response.
   Describe Marsellus Wallace to me, pray.
B: What?
J: What country dost thou hail from?
B: What?
J: How passing strange, for I have traveled far,
   And never have I heard tell of this What.
   What language speak they in the land of What?
B: What?
J: The Queen’s own English, base knave, dost thou speak it?
B: Aye!
J: Then hearken to my words and answer them!
   Describe to me Marsellus Wallace!
B: What?
JULES presses his knife to BRETT’s throat
J: Speak ‘What’ again! Thou cur, cry ‘What’ again!
   I dare thee utter ‘What’ again but once!
   I dare thee twice and spit upon thy name!
   Now, paint for me a portraiture in words,
   If thou hast any in thy head but ‘What’,
   Of Marsellus Wallace!
B: He is dark.
J: Aye, and what more?
B: His head is shaven bald.
J: Has he the semblance of a harlot?
B: What?
JULES strikes and BRETT cries out
J: Has he the semblance of a harlot?
B: Nay!
J: Then why didst thou attempt to bed him thus?
B: I did not!
J: Aye, thou didst! O, aye, thou didst!
   Thou hoped to rape him like a chattel whore,
   And sooth, Lord Wallace is displeased to bed
   With anyone but she to whom he wed.

(via Boing Boing)