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It's been a while, but I vaguely recall someone telling me I should do this after I did a medieval version of "u wot m8." Here goes.

With what manner of speech did you address me, rake? Be informed that I was peerless among squires during my education. I have aided his majesty the king in numerous campaigns against the Saracens and I have laid low thrice fivescore opponents. I have mastered the delicate art of the night-raid and am the superlative archer in the realm. You, meanwhile, are wholly without worth. Let it be known that I will bring such artifice to your ignominious end as none have yet witnessed within the Lord's creation. You believe you can volley such insults by way of anonymous missive? My hunters and their keen hounds have already discerned your location, so it is best you hasten preparations for the ensuing tumult, wretch, the species of tumult that will spill your life essences into the gaping maw of Hades. Perhaps if wisdom guided you to see the repercussions of your knavish harangue, you would remained silent. You were unable to do so, however, and now punishment will be exacted on you. I will excrete biliously upon you and in such bilious excretion shall you be overcome. Your time on this earth shall soon cease, peasant.

Greetings, varlets and sodomites!

I am Sir Jonathan, a knicht of the realme more worthie than thee, and i'faith I am a-fillen with naught but contempte for thee. Thou art fat and witlesse, wrecches who spend their every wakynge houre beholding carvygnes most profane. Thou embodiest all that be forsaken by God. In truth, I ask of thee the number of maidens thou hast deflowered. Certes, I hazard that to tell a jape most well-deserved will temper the tongue of a fool, but thy tongues lack wit. I'faith, 'tis more sinfulle than to waste thy seed by means of thy hand.

Approach me if thou darest. Spit thy envenomed words at me. I am a knicht most exemplary. I have earnt the lady's favour at many a jouste, and hunt both boares and fowles. What japes do thou partakest of, other than "pleasure thyself"? I also am learned in rhetorick and alchymie, and have the hand of a maiden fairer than the Ladye of the Lak (In truth, I have carnal knowledge of her, and 'tis a rare thing indeed). My argument proceeds thus, that thou art witlesse pitiful wrecches forsaken by God.

Behold here an image of my faire lady.

DOTH THOU EVEN HOIST, KNAVE?

i knoweth thou feeling, brother.