Ian Doescher: William Shakespeare's The Empire Striketh Back

—But no one knows his whereabouts.

What dost thou mean by “no one,” prating droid?
Deck officer, deck officer!

—Yes, Sir?

Dost thou know where Commander Skywalker Is?

—I’ve not seen him, but ’tis possible
He through the entrance to the south return’d.

“’Tis possible”? I prithee, good lad, go
Thou thither and find out. It grows quite dark
Outside.

—Aye, Sir.

—Excuse me, Sir, but may
I ask what doth transpire?

—Thou mayst indeed.

O man impossible! Come thou, R2,
Let us return unto the princess now.
The drying of her clothes is now the least
Of all our worries, for another ill
Far greater than our mishap is afoot.
In confidence I tell thee: I do fear
That Master Luke grave danger doth confront.

What portents strange, what evil tidings this:
My friend by no one seen, the droids afraid,
Chewbacca prone to error with the ship,
The young deck officer so tentative—
These things foretell some ill that shall occur.
But if misfortune toucheth anyone,
Let it be me and not my partner, Luke.
For he is like a brother unto me,
As all who fight with me in battle are.
Though I did save him in the Death Star clash,
’Tis he hath sav’d me from the smuggler’s life
By leading me on paths more true than I
Had e’er foreseen. Now do I call him friend,
And this rebellion is the cause we share.
From all my friends here I would not depart
If I were not by Jabba hunted down.
Aye, I would give my bones—my life—for great
Rebellion’s sake if e’er it were requir’d.
But soft you now: the officer returns.

Good Sir, Commander Skywalker hath not
Come in the entrance to the south. He may
Have but forgotten to check in.

—Nay, nay.
His nature is not thus. Now tell me, are
The speeders ready?

—Nay, we have not yet
Adapted them unto the cold of Hoth.

So then upon a tauntaun’s back I’ll ride.
Though with especial foulness they abuse
My nose, they are the speediest we have.

But Sir, the temp’rature doth drop too fast
For any living being to survive.

’Tis true, and my dear friend doth bear the brunt.
He shall not die while I have life or breath,
For neither snow nor ice nor gloom of Hoth
Shall stay my rescue of my greatest friend.

Thy tauntaun shall but freeze ere thou canst ride
Unto our prim’ry marker, I predict.

Then I shall dine with thee tonight in Hell!

What warren, friends, is this? I am within
Some icy shelter. Now I do recall—
The creature large hath ta’en me by surprise,
Then quickly did my body overpow’r
By knocking me aside with painful blow.
It kill’d my tauntaun with its vicious claw,
Unmovèd by the creature’s awful scream.
It must have dragg’d us to this frozen lair.
E’en now I hear it gnaw my tauntaun’s flesh,
The stench of musty death is in my nose.
Now I’m awake, hung up by my own feet,
And sounds of tearing skin and crunching bone
Do echo through the monster’s gloomy cave.
The tauntaun, though, is only the first dish,
And I am bound to be the second course.
Indeed, I have a problem grave, and how
Shall I make rescue for myself? But wait—
What’s there—a’lying on the snow nearby?
It is my lightsaber—how fortunate!
’Tis still too far to grasp with my own reach:
Thus call I on the Force to save my life.
O concentrate, and call upon the things
Thou learn’st from Obi-Wan when he still liv’d.
Forsooth, I feel the Force begin to flow—
Within, nearby, inside, surrounding me.
O Force most strong—the lightsaber’s at hand!
Now am I free to flee the fierce beast’s clutch,
But, lo, the creature comes to me anon!
It will attack me in its fiery rage
Unless I am the first to strike. Lay on!

Alas, how I am by this man abus’d—
Could I, for seeking food, not be excus’d?
It seemeth that this wampa shall have strife.
Thus, gentles all: have pity on my life.

O horrid interim of waiting, time
That doth like snail unwillingly creep by.
Full many hours have pass’d without a word
Of Master Luke or Captain Solo. Now
The day grows late, and whisper’d words of fear
Throughout the base are heard for these men’s fate.
It seems that all lose heart, and think the worst,
For how can e’en our bold Han Solo stand
The harsh and unrelenting chill of Hoth?
But now, no more, C-3PO; thou art
Not made to worry and to fret. Be brave!
Come now, R2, there’s no more we can do.
Behold, my joints are freezing.

—Whistle, hoo.

Say not such things! Of course we shall set eyes
On Master Luke again. And he shall be
In perfect health, thou impish little droid.
Aye, he shall be in perfect health.

[ aside: ]—I fear
This chill that doth e’en now my metal frame
Assault. ’Tis cold unto the core. ’Tis cold,
I fear, unto the death. Bear up, droid soul,
And listen to C-3PO’s advice:
Be thou a helpful strength amid distress.

Sir, all patrols are in, and still no sign
From either Skywalker or Solo.

—Dread!

My Mistress Leia, R2 makes report
He hath not any signals yet receiv’d.
However, he admitteth that his range
Is far too weak to give up ev’ry hope.

Your Highness, I do fear there’s nothing more
That we may do tonight. The shield doors must
Be closèd.