Ian Doescher - William Shakespeare's The Jedi Doth Return

Look now, he comes—alas, how ag’d he seems!

That face thou dost make:
Look I so old to young eyes,
My body so frail?

Nay, nay, good master! Perish such a thought.

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.

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?