William Shakespeare's Tragedy of the Sith's Revenge

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William Shakespeare's Tragedy of the Sith's Revenge Page 13

by Ian Doescher


  BAIL

  What say’st thou, droid? Of infants speakest thou?

  MEDIC. 1

  The lady carries twins within her womb.

  They move quickly to attend to her. Enter two more MEDICAL DROIDS, waiting on PADMÉ.

  MEDIC. 2

  Ee-see-tah oy-doh.

  OBI-WAN

  —Lady, ’tis your son.

  PADMÉ

  He shall be Luke, and walk among the skies.

  Heart of mine heart, and issue of my love.

  MEDIC. 2

  Ooh-bah, ooh-bah. Ee-see-tah oy-doh.

  OBI-WAN

  —See,

  A daughter, too, a pair of children sweet.

  PADMÉ

  ’Tis Leia, who, like me, is royalty.

  Brave spirit, do remember thy sad mother.

  [Exeunt medical droids, bearing the infants. Exit C-3PO.

  O, Obi-Wan, I prithee, do attend:

  Mine Anakin still hath some good in him.

  Whate’er he is, or does, or hath become,

  I know some good remaineth in him yet.

  Though I expire, mine hope in him endures.

  [She dies.

  OBI-WAN

  Sweet lady, done to death by love too rough—

  No words of mine may offer comfort. Nay,

  Nor is there aught within the galaxy

  That can make right the wrong that you sustain’d.

  Be now at peace, fam’d senator and queen.

  YODA

  A Master’s heart breaks—

  We Jedi heartless are not,

  And thus weep I shall.

  R2-D2

  [aside:] What is a droid’s role midst this tragedy?

  I cannot change the course that hath led here,

  Nor bring to life the ones who have been slain.

  No droidly programming or gadgetry

  Shall rescue Anakin, my former Master.

  The weave of Fate continues to be knit,

  Whilst I, a droid, have naught that can undo

  A single knot of its long cord of life.

  Yea, therefore shall I give my droidly being

  A’fighting for these people I have known:

  My Master Obi-Wan, and any who

  Shall fight against the dreaded emperor.

  Let this be now thine only task, R2:

  Defend thy friends and all thy causes true.

  [Exit R2-D2.

  Enter DARTH SIDIOUS and SEVERAL MEDICAL DROIDS above, on balcony, with DARTH VADER in black suit, in a rehabilitation center.

  SIDIOUS

  The man shall live, but ever shall be chang’d.

  Young Anakin is dead, and only now

  Darth Vader lives within this cold, black shell.

  [A mask is lowered onto Darth Vader’s head.

  VADER

  [aside:] This blacken’d mask enshrouds mine human sight,

  Forever doth it alter’d render me—

  No Anakin remaineth, nay, but Vader:

  The robot-man, he whom I have become.

  This mask shall hide the man that once I was,

  Behind the mask my secret thoughts shall lay,

  Beneath the mask shall be my private lair,

  The mask, impenetrable, makes me free.

  Within the full security it gives

  I shall fulfill my radiant destiny:

  Bring balance to the Force as I do live

  A life of vengeance, power, and reward.

  SIDIOUS

  Lord Vader, canst thou hear me? Art thou well?

  VADER

  Indeed, my Master, aye—yet where is Padmé?

  The fog of recent matters clouds the sky

  Of memory; I know not what hath been

  Her lot—is she nearby and flourishing?

  SIDIOUS

  These mists have made thee hazy, worthy friend,

  Concealing all thy sins from thine own sight,

  For thou hast slain her in thine anger fierce.

  VADER

  Nay, nay, it cannot be! I would recall—

  Her life I felt within my very soul!—

  And yet this fog besets me all around.

  Nay, Padmé, nay! O, be not dead, my love!

  [Exit Vader, raging and shaking the room with the Force. Exeunt Sidious and medical droids.

  YODA

  [to Bail and Obi-Wan:] Hidden and secure,

  So must the children be kept

  Until chang’d times have.

  OBI-WAN

  We shall depart and take them far anon,

  Where these vile Sith may ne’er their presence sense,

  And heaven shall protect their innocence.

  YODA

  Taken not as two,

  But one by one they shall be—

  Split in twain, apart.

  BAIL

  My wife and I shall take the girl; long have

  We talk’d about adopting such a child

  As she: this Leia shall Organa be,

  And shall be lov’d as though she were our own.

  OBI-WAN

  What of the boy? What future shall be his?

  YODA

  To Tatooine go,

  To his family take him.

  Raise him up they shall.

  OBI-WAN

  I shall, and o’er the boy-child I shall watch,

  While he doth grow—a youth, and then a man.

  It is my duty to his mother dead,

  And to his father, who was once my friend.

  YODA

  Until the moment

  For us to arise hath come,

  Disappear we shall.

  [Exit Bail. Obi-Wan begins to exit.

  Master Kenobi,

  I prithee, attend me now:

  More words would I speak.

  In your solitude

  On the dunes of Tatooine,

  More training you’ll have.

  OBI-WAN

  More training? Am I not a Jedi, sir?

  YODA

  An old friend hath learn’d

  The way t’immortality,

  This must thou learn, too.

  ’Tis one who return’d

  From th’underworld of the Force.

  ’Tis thine old master.

  OBI-WAN

  E’en Qui-Gon Jinn? Forsooth, this news is rare!

  YODA

  To commune with him

  Shall I, in due time, teach you;

  Much hath he to say.

  Enter BAIL ORGANA, C-3PO, R2-D2, and CAPTAIN ANTILLES above, on balcony.

  BAIL

  My Captain—brave Antilles—sir, a word.

  ANTILLES

  Aye, Highness, here I am: what is your need?

  BAIL

  These droids I place within your worthy care.

  Pray treat them well and make them brightly shine.

  Moreover, as I ponder all that’s been,

  Methinks the droid of protocol must have

  His mind eras’d, to start anew.

  C-3PO

  —Alack!

  [Exeunt C-3PO and Captain Antilles.

  BAIL

  Now, for a time, we find a hop’d-for rest,

  Now quiet—if not peace—surroundeth us,

  Now shall we each go hence our sev’ral ways,

  Now doth a time of fortitude begin.

  OBI-WAN

  The tragedies that we have seen do reach

  Beyond the pale of what we humans should

  Endure, far worse than mine imagination:

  A woeful season for the galaxy.

  R2-D2

  [aside:] Our tale hath reach’d its somber, wretched end,

  As we bid our farewell to noble friends.

  These star wars stretch our spirits to the brink

  Whereon we’ll find new hope, or fade and shrink.

  [All freeze as Yoda takes center stage.

  YODA

  My friends, ’tis the end.

  As bef
its a noble queen—

  Regal as the morn—

  Lo, here’s Padmé all serene

  On a coffin borne.

  Whilst the people of Naboo

  Each a weeping make,

  Watching Padmé, good and true,

  Resting, ne’er to wake.

  On a ship above, in space:

  There Darth Vader stands,

  Empire’s rise he doth embrace,

  This with robot hands.

  Here doth stand the emperor,

  Eyeing his new plan:

  Pain the Death Star shall confer,

  Racking Alderaan.

  Ere that time, Organa flies,

  Quickly home doth go.

  Under care of tender eyes,

  Ease shall Leia know.

  Later, o’er on Tatooine,

  Sojourns Obi-Wan.

  Fresh, wee Luke is on the scene,

  O, the father’s son!

  Riding eopie he appears:

  Stranger now, soon friend.

  Owen and Beru, sans fears,

  One small child shall tend.

  There may Luke rest many years:

  Here, friends, ’tis the end.

  [Exeunt omnes.

  END.

  AFTERWORD.

  William Shakespeare’s Tragedy of the Sith’s Revenge is aptly named; Revenge of the Sith is a classic tragedy in every sense. As in all tragic tales, Fate has determined that a happy ending is not in the cards. When the film premiered in 2005, we fans of the Star Wars saga knew what had to happen: Obi-Wan and Yoda must go into exile, baby Leia and baby Luke must be given to the Organa and Skywalker families, C-3PO must have his memory erased. But, most important, Anakin Skywalker must become Darth Vader. As I watched Revenge of the Sith again in preparation for writing this book, I realized how well the movie charts the inevitable course Anakin takes—his tragic fall—complete with hubris, as though he were a character taken out of the ancient Greek tradition. (Or maybe a Shakespeare play!)

  In the movie, Anakin and Palpatine have a key conversation as they sit in the Galaxies Opera House on Coruscant, watching a performance that always seemed to me half Cirque du Soleil and half Koyaanisqatsi. At first, I intended for this to be a chance encounter between the two characters. When I started to write the scene, though, I recalled the play-within-a-play from Hamlet and realized that, within the setting of a theatrical performance, Palpatine could engineer the acting to make his message fully resonate with Anakin. (Along the way, a player recites a speech from an ancient Oedipal Tusken Raider story, to which I first made reference in William Shakespeare’s The Jedi Doth Return.) Where better than a theater to discuss hard topics? As any parent knows, it’s often on a car ride or in a movie theater—when you and your kids are looking at something in front of you, not at one another—that the best conversations happen. Maybe Palpatine knew that, too. Regardless, he gets his chance to catch Anakin’s conscience as Hamlet ensnared Claudius, though to a different end.

  Throughout the book, Anakin borrows lines from each of Shakespeare’s tragic heroes. Anakin and Padmé speak in rhyming quatrains when they are alone—as they have since their romance began—but in Act V, scene 2, when the final rift in their relationship comes, their rhymes are (intentionally) less than perfect. When Anakin becomes Darth Vader and Chancellor Palpatine is revealed as Darth Sidious, I follow Shakespearean convention and change their names in the script accordingly.

  Two trilogies are now behind us, dear reader. Launching into the prequels has been an adventure, giving me a new appreciation for the films. I look forward to hearing people debate the order in which the William Shakespeare’s Star Wars series should be read with the same fervor they argue about the order in which the movies should be watched. (I’m a traditionalist: in my family, it’s 4, 5, 6, 1, 2, 3.) Thank you for sharing this journey with me, and may the Force be with you onward, into episodes 7, 8, and 9.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

  This book is dedicated to my spouse, Jennifer, who is the most caring, loving, intelligent, and beautiful woman I know. Imagine my surprise when she married me! Thank you, Jennifer, for all of it.

  Thank you to my two little Padawans, Liam and Graham; to my parents, Beth and Bob Doescher; to my brother Erik and his family Em, Aracelli, and Addison; to my aunt Holly Havens; and to my dear and helpful friends Josh Hicks and Murray Biggs. Thank you to the team at Quirk Books, who have been so kind: Jason Rekulak, Rick Chillot, Nicole De Jackmo, Eric Smith, Suzanne Wallace, Brett Cohen, Jane Morley, Tim O’Donnell, and the rest of the team. Thank you to my agent, Adriann Ranta—you are the best. Thank you to Jennifer Heddle and Leland Chee at Lucasfilm, and to illustrator Nicolas Delort. Thank you to so many supportive family members and friends: Heidi Altman and Scott Roehm, Emmy Betz and Michael Hoke, Jane Bidwell, Travis Boeh and Sarah Woodburn, Chris Buehler and Marian Hammond, Erin and Nathan Buehler, Jeff and Caryl Creswell, Ken Evers-Hood, Mark Fordice, Chris Frimoth, Alana Garrigues, Brian Heron, Jim and Nancy Hicks, Anne Huebsch, Apricot and David Irving, Doree Jarboe, Alexis Kaushansky, Bobby Lopez, Chris and Andrea Martin, Jessica Mason, Bruce McDonald, Joan and Grady Miller, Jim Moiso, Janice Morgan, Michael Morrill and Tara Schuster, Dave Nieuwstraten, Omid Nooshin, Bill Rauch, Julia Rodriguez-O’Donnell, Larry Rothe, Kristy Thompson, Naomi Walcott and Audu Besmer, Steve Weeks, Ryan Wilmot, Ben and Katie Wire, Ethan Youngerman and Rebecca Lessem, Dan Zehr, and members of the 501st Legion.

  Finally, thank you to the Star Wars fans, Shakespeare fans, theater buffs, book lovers, students and teachers, eager kids, eager adults, comic con attendees, geeks, nerds, and everyone else who has supported these books. Your enthusiasm and generosity mean the world to me.

  WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

  (1564–1616) was a poet and playwright. He is widely considered one of the greatest writers in the English language.

  GEORGE LUCAS is a film producer, screenwriter, director, and the creator of the Star Wars motion picture saga. He lives in California.

  IAN DOESCHER is the New York Times best-selling author of William Shakespeare’s Star Wars. He lives in Portland, Oregon, with his family. Visit him at IanDoescher.com.

 

 

 


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