Ian Doescher - William Shakespeare's The Jedi Doth Return

[ aside: ] Say what is this? My Leia sparsely clad
All in a metal-fashion’d suit? How strange!
I did expect one of our company
To be enclos’d in steel, but not like this.

At last, ’tis Master Luke to rescue us!

[ to Jabba: ] Nuh masta, gabba no pace Skywalker.

Nah mass fa wong lee fah toon kay.

—Thou must,
Great Jabba, grant me leave to speak with thee.

Nuh Jedi modst be inco ee, baanah.

Old Bib but echoes what the man doth say!

Ahh, ko ja vaya sko. Ees turo na
Om Jedi mine chik.

—Let me be plain:
Thou shalt with all expedience produce
Both Captain Solo and the Wookiee, and
Shall grant our safe departure from this place.
’Tis this, and nothing more, I shall accept.

Ya ku kacha ka puna ni sa. Ee?

My Jedi powers may not work on thee,
But still I shall take Captain Solo and
His friends. Thou canst yet choose to profit from
This plan, or be destroy’d. It is thy choice,
But thou art warn’d: to underestimate
My pow’r would bring about thy end at once.

But Master Luke, thou standest on—

—Ban gon
Wah she co, cah O Jedi. Cho kanya
Wee shaja keecho, ho!

Ah bahloosku!

Now shall we see the rancor rancorous!

[ aside: ] Alas, now Luke is thrown into the pit—
His skill must see him through. My part shall be
To give protection to the princess now.

For pity—now the monster hideous
Hath come forth from his hiding place to sup.

[ sings: ] They shriek at my mystique,
My teeth they’ll die beneath—
A feast made for a beast,
A treat that I may eat!

What terrifying creature-thing is this?
Ne’er have I such a ghastly being seen.
But still these thoughts, for succor have they none:
Be calm now, Luke, or else—sans doubt—you die.

Squeal!

—That poor guard shall be the first to fall,
For he doth panic and is cornerèd.
The rancor slowly makes his way t’ward him
And sees his dinner spread before his eyes.

O wretched beast! He tears the guard apart
With sound of breaking bones and crumpl’d flesh.
One need not know six million language forms
To understand the screams and sudden hush.

It shall be time to hire another guard!

[ sings: ] The fat one now is flat,
He growls within me bow’ls,
And yet I’ll not forget
To source my second course.

He turns in my direction, counting on
His next delicious morsel to be ta’en
E’en from my body. Aye, he cometh quick!
This stick shall my protection be—we’ll see
If he hath appetite for wooded grains.

[ aside: ] Luke now is in its grasp, but cunningly
Hath bought a little time, and put a log
Inside the creature’s mouth. Fight on, good Luke!

Well done, dear friend. Anon, make haste and flee!

[ sings: ] The one doth quickly run,
I’ll catch him—down the hatch him!
The stick’s a nasty trick—
His head shall be my bread.

Now swiftly through the monster’s legs I fly,
For yonder, past the creature, lies a door!
On reaching it, I shall make my escape.

Alas, but what is this? More bars behind
The door!

—O Master, find another course!

’Tis just the beast and I. But look, how he
Doth come toward me through the very gate
Whence first he came. If I could close the gate
On him, he shall be slain. Aye, here’s a rock,
And there’s the panel for the door’s control.
’Tis now or ne’er. I call upon the Force
To guide this rock unto the very spot.

His plan hath been reveal’d—O clever Luke!
The rock he throweth straight and hits the mark—
The gate doth fall, the rancor is destroy’d!
O brave escape, O clever, daring Luke!

Nuh toota ah! Gungsh Solo nuh Wookiee!
Takootay noota bangass nuh baskah.

My master’s plaything cunningly dispos’d—
If Jabba shall not play, he’ll make them pay.

O that this too, too sullied flesh would melt
Into oblivion, if I without
My pet belov’d must live. O darkest world!
O misery beyond compare to me.
Already my beast’s life doth play its part
Within the tend’rest mem’ries of my brain.
How well I do remember when the beast
Was but a rancor pup. It was the runt—
Was almost eaten by its mother cruel—
Indeed, it had but little chance for life.
Yet it was purchas’d as a novelty
By Jawas who e’er seek abnormal things.
I bought it from this band of Jawas, who
Related to me all it had been through
And chargèd me a paltry sum for such
A worthy animal. Then did I raise
It from its lowly start unto the grand
And tow’ring hulk that now before me lies.
How fondly I recall the playful nips
It gave me, which eventually turn’d
To bites that drew no small amount of blood.
I train’d it to be vicious, to enjoy
The taste of flesh and powd’ry crunch of bone.
Yet ever did it know its master true—
And never would it turn its anger fierce
Upon the one who lov’d it first and best.
Was ever rancor in this humor rais’d?
Was ever rancor in this humor won?
To think on it brings pain past all resolve.
O Fate, that ever I should see this day—
Now there’s but little light left in this world,
For its bright sun unjustly is snuff’d out.
I shall away, and drown myself in tears,
Belike to live the sad remainder of
My mortal days upon this planet grave
Unfriended, unprotected, and alone.