William Shakespeare's The Jedi Doth Return (7 page)

I do, aye, I do.

Sick and weak have I become,

Elderly and tir’d.

And yet, I ask thee:

When nine hundred years thou hast,

Shalt thou look better?

Soon shall I have rest,

Forever sleep, as all do.

Earnèd it I have.

But what is this? Thou art an aging soul,

Yet wherefore speakest thou of death’s embrace?

Good Master Yoda, cease: thou mayst not die.

Verily, ’tis true,

With the Force pow’rful am I,

Yet not that pow’rful.

Twilight is on me

And thence comes night. ’Tis the way

For all in the Force.

Yet I have need of thy good help, for here

I stand, return’d, prepar’d my training to

Complete. What should I do without thine aid?

No further training

Dost thou require, for thou hast

All thou e’er shalt need.

Forsooth, ’tis true: I am a Jedi now.

Be thou not so sure,

For still Vader remaineth.

Thou must confront him.

Then, and only then,

A true Jedi shalt thou be.

And face him thou shalt.

Dear Master Yoda, one thing in me burns—

The question that is flame inside my bones,

Whose answer may yet kindle hate or love,

I know not which. Yet still it must be ask’d:

Darth Vader—tell me true—is he my father?

’Tis time for my rest.

Time for my sleep eternal,

’Tis no time for truth.

Thou wouldst protect me from this knowledge,

which

May difficult and painful be. In this

Thou showest care for me, and hast my thanks—

But Yoda, full of heart, I must needs know.

[
aside:
] Alack, he knows all.

Now may I only speak truth:

Only truth lives on.

[
To Luke:
] Thy father he is.

Told you, did he? Unforeseen

This is. Distressing.

Distressing that at length I learn the truth?

Nay, nay! Distressing

That thou hast rush’d to face him.

Not ready wert thou.

Thy training not done,

The field of thy heart unplow’d,

The burden, too much.

Forgive me, for I knew not what I did.

Remember, my Luke,

A Jedi’s strength from the Force

Doth come. But beware.

Anger, fear, hatred—

From the dark side they all come;

Its minions they are.

Once thou hast enter’d

In the dark path infernal,

Abandon all hope.

The powers of the

Emperor, thou shouldst never

Underestimate.

Else thy father’s fate,

Shall, in turn, become thine own:

Let not this transpire.

When I have gone, slept,

The last of the Jedi shalt

Thou be, thou alone.

Attend, Luke! The Force

Is strong with thy family:

Pass on what thou learn’dst.

These final words now

With my last breath I utter:

O hear well, brave Luke.

This is our hope: there

Is another Skywalker.

The rest silence is.

[Yoda dies.

Good night, sweet Jedi, noble, wise, and true.

So gentle was he, and too quickly gone.

O Fate, what hast thou brought into my life—

How shall I live when all I love have died?

Yet all things die, and all things pass away,

And all is like the sweeping of the stars

As one doth pass through lightspeed’s rapid blaze.

We know ’tis true: no mortal does not know

That all are born to feed insatiate death.

But O, what grief we meet along the way:

The knowledge something beautiful is lost,

The deep regret for all unspoken words—

Profound remorse for healing never giv’n.

To wish to hold the dead one’s hand again,

To picture a love’s smile, and know it gone:

These are the pains that human life doth bring,

The heartache and the thousand nat’ral shocks

That flesh is heir to. Death shall not be tam’d,

It shall not lose its victory or sting,

Yet it shall never have the best of us

If in our living we have truly liv’d.

To love with bliss, to fight for righteousness,

To heed adventure’s call, to cry with joy,

To laugh amidst life’s greatest heights and depths:

This is the living that doth conquer death,

So e’en though it shall come, we shall not fear’t.

These lessons let my master’s death teach me,

That my life shall esteem his memory.

[
aside:
] O gift of Fate, that he my master is!

[
To Luke:
] Beep, meep, beep, whistle, meep, beep, whistle, squeak!

I cannot face the future by myself,

What shall I do, R2? I am alone—

The only Jedi left to bear the name.

It may be this responsibility

Is far too great for such a one as I.

How can I bear the burden by myself?

Nay, not alone, for Yoda always shall

Remain with thee.

—My soul, ’tis Obi-Wan!

[
Aside:
] Now e’en though he of ghostly matter’s made,

He shall anon give answer for his words.

[
To Obi-Wan:
] Good Ben, it warms my heart to see thee here,

Yet I must ask thee to explain thyself—

Pray, wherefore hast thou not reveal’d the thing

That thou didst know? Thou said’st my father had

By Vader been betray’d and murderèd.

Ne’er hast thou said that he my father is!

[
aside:
] I never did imagine that, in death,

I would be call’d upon to justify

The words I spoke in life. ’Twas well I spoke

Not of the midi-chlorians to Luke,

For then he would have endless questions still.

[
To Luke:
] Thine inquiry shall have an answer, Luke,

For verily thou dost deserve to know.

Thy father was seducèd by the dark

Side of the Force. ’Twas then that he no more

Was Anakin Skywalker, only Darth.

When that had happen’d, thy good father was

Destroy’d. And thus, forsooth, the words I spoke

Were truthful, from a certain point of view.

“A certain point of view”? What doth that mean?

It may be said that I, within my ship,

Do see my X-wing as an instrument

Of truth and justice, aye, a noble thing,

While from a certain point of view I know

Mine enemies do see it as a threat.

It may be said that when I was attack’d

By rancor vicious and intemperate,

Prepar’d to make of me his morning meal,

There is a certain point of view that doth

Suggest he was a simple hungry beast.

It may e’en be that our Rebellion is,

For us, an undertaking pure and good,

Possessing every virtue possible,

While from the Empire’s certain point of view

It is a mere annoyance to be crush’d.

But this, I do not understand: how can

A certain point of view say that a man

Was murder’d by another man, when both

Are one and they together are my father?

Luke, thou shalt find that many of your truths

Depend entirely on your point of view.

It well may be that thou dost like it not,

But does not follow that it is not so.

’Tis true, that Anakin a good friend was.

When I first knew him, he already was

A pilot skill’d and swift, and it amaz’d

Me with what strength the Force work’d in his life.

I took it on myself to train him as

A Jedi. Even then I did believe

That I could train him just as Yoda could.

But there my fault did lie. Therein I fail’d.

I do believe it may be rectified.

What if he could be turnèd once again?

There is yet good within him—I can feel’t.

He is machine e’en more than man, I fear.

His soul’s an evil, tangl’d labyrinth.

I shall not do it, Ben.

—Thou canst not ’scape

Thy destiny. You must confront and face

Darth Vader once again.

—I shall not kill

My father.

—Then the Emperor hath won.

Thou wert our only hope the Empire and

The dark side to defeat. If thou wilt not,

No other shall arise to take our place.

But must this necessarily be so?

For Yoda spoke of yet another. Who?

No more of hidden pasts: thou shalt know all.

The other one of which he spoke is none

But thy twin sister.

—Sister? I know none.

Both thou and she were hidden safely from

The Emperor just after ye were born.

For he did know, as I do, that the kin

Of Anakin would be a pow’rful threat

Unto his reign of madness, might, and murder.

At birth, the two were separated: thou

Unto thine uncle Owen and thine aunt

Beru, on Tatooine, where I did watch

O’er thee as thou didst grow into a man;

Thy sister to a senator did go,

Apart from thee and thy dread father’s wrath.

There she did grow into a woman fine,

And has, since then, remain’d anonymous.

[
aside:
] O wondrous revelation to my soul!

A sister, and before me comes her face:

For surely Leia is my sister, else

My instincts have no truth in them. What news!

I know not whether to respond with shouts

Of greatest joy, or to shrink back in fear

And paralyzing shock at what we’ve done.

Three times hath she kiss’d me in friendship’s name,

The last of these more passionate than e’er

A sister should upon her sib bestow.

There is an ancient tale of Tatooine,

That tells of Tusken Raider who, through Fate

And circumstance, join’d with his mother in

A bond most strange and quite unnatural.

They liv’d in blissful ignorance of their

Relation until they discover’d it

By chance. And O, what awful times befell!

The Tusken Raider’s mother hang’d herself

Upon a bantha’s horn. The Tusken, in

His agony and grief, pull’d off his mask

And claw’d at his own eyes until they bled,

Then came dislodg’d, and finally pluck’d out.

He fell unto his knees and cried with pain—

Not merely pain to have his eyes remov’d,

But deeper pain that sear’d his very heart.

’Tis said that though he then could see no more,

He saw more clearly than he ever had.

At night, upon the sands of Tatooine,

His howl may still be heard, a warning to

Those who would break the sacred fam’ly bond

Through passions of the body. Shall this be

My fate, for crossing o’er the boundary

That none should cross, e’en once? I’ll warrant: nay.

Not only have I superstitions none,

But our brief moments of affection were

A trifle none could call a love affair.

I now see clearly but still have my eyes,

And may my sister know sans tragedy.

Thus, I do make a solemn, earnest vow:

I shall embrace my royal sister as

A pow’rful ally, and shall show to her

The path that surely leads unto the Force.

[
To Obi-Wan:
] ’Tis Leia, aye? My soul doth know ’tis she.

Thine instincts serve thee well, Luke. Bury now

These feelings, for they do thee credit but

May be manipulated and abus’d

If e’er the Emperor should learn of them.

It bringeth my heart joy to see thee, Ben,

I’ll heed thy counsel till we meet again.

[Exeunt.

My friend, well met! ’Tis good to see thee here

And not a’dangling o’er a sarlacc’s pit.

Thou wast promoted well—a general!

Belike our leaders were inform’d about

Mine actions at the battle of Taanab.

Cast not thine eyes on me for blame or thanks—

I did but tell them thou art pilot fair.

But knew not that they hop’d to find the one

Who would direct this crazy-brain’d attack.

Nay, “crazy-brain’d” thou sayst? How may that be,

Since thou dost know a thing or two of Death

Star battles and what it doth take to win?

Surpris’d I am that they did not ask thee.