SCENE 7.

Mine uncle, thou shouldst know my mind. Methinks

The R2 unit we have bought belike

May have been stolen.

—Thievery hath e’er

Been part and parcel of the Jawas’ trade.

But in thine utterance I sense there’s more,

So say, young Luke, why thinkest thou thereon?

Good uncle, well I know the Jawas’ tricks,

Yet, as thou sayest, I mean something more.

A stolen moment with those droids hath shown

To me a reason they may stolen be:

I did uncover a recording whilst

I clean’d the R2 unit. He purports

To be the property of someone known

As Obi-Wan Kenobi. Thus, thought I,

That he may stolen be. As to the name,

This Obi-Wan Kenobi, wondered I

If mayhap he meant Ben. Canst thou make sense?

Nay.

—Yet I wonder if this Obi-Wan

Perchance may be some kin to yonder Ben.

[aside:] Fie, fie! Shall that old man now haunt my home?

[To Luke:] That wizard is a damnèd scurvy man.

Tomorrow shalt thou take the R2 droid

To Anchorhead and have its memory

Eras’d. And so shall there an end be to’t.

For it belongeth only now to us.

Aye, yet what if this Obi-Wan appears

And lays his claim unto this R2 droid?

What’s stolen may be worth the looking for.

The looking shall not happen, nor the find,

For I believe the man doth not exist.

[Aside:] Now shall I by a lie destroy the man,

Lest he be giv’n new life in Luke’s young mind—

The boy a keen imagination hath.

[To Luke:] This Obi-Wan hath not for ages walk’d

Within this universe: he is no more.

’Twas many moons ago the old man died,

Aye, truly he hath met his end about

The time so long ago when wars were fought,

The time when men did battle to the grave,

The time before the Empire rul’d supreme,

The time wherein thy father died as well.

Knew he my father?

[aside:]                 —Though I tell of men

And wars and battles brave, still all he hears

Is that word “father.” [To Luke:] Prithee, Luke, forget.

Thy task is to prepare the droids for work

Tomorrow. In the morning shall they be

Upon the south ridge, laboring with those

Condensers.

—Aye, and I believe these droids

Shall serve us well. In troth, good uncle, now

I must confess my mind is mov’d to think

Upon the pact ’twixt thee and me, and our

Agreement, namely that I shall stay here

Another season. Crops that grow in these

Harsh climes will surely grow sans me. And so,

Mine uncle, if these droids will satisfy

I wish my application to transmit

Unto the great Academy this year.

Nay Luke, an uncle’s heart is breaking! Canst

Thou mean the next semester hence, before

The harvest-time?

—Just so! Quite plentiful

Are droids!

—But harvest-time I need thee most!

Wilt thou here in the desert yet desert?

’Tis only one more season. This year I

Shall make enough at harvest-time to hire

More hands to help. Then canst thou go next year

To the Academy. To pilot is

A noble trade, my boy, but family

Is nobler still. I prithee, understand,

I need thee, Luke.

—’Tis one more year entire!

’Tis only one more season!

—Aye, so saidst

Thou when my dear friends Biggs and Tank did leave.

Now cracks a hopeful heart, when, by the land,

A man’s ambitions firmly grounded are:

So shall a bird ne’er learn to fly or soar

When wings are clipp’d by crops and roots and soil.

Pray whither fly’st thou, Luke?

—It seems, dear aunt,

I nowhere go nor flee nor sail nor fly.

Instead, I must remain and clean those droids.

[Exit Luke.

O Owen, he cannot abide for aye

With us. ’Tis true, his friends are mostly gone.

It hath great meaning for our well-lov’d Luke—

This bird would surely fly.

—So promise I

That I shall set all things aright, Beru.

The bird shall fly indeed, when time is ripe,

And when the nest hath no more need of him.

But Owen, he hath not a farmer’s heart—

This apple falls quite near his father’s tree.

’Tis true! And this, my dear, is what I fear.

[Exeunt Owen and Beru. Reenter Luke, gazing into the setting of Tatooine’s two suns.

O, I am Fortune’s fool. ’Tis true, ’tis true,

And gazing now upon the double sun

Of my home Tatooine, I know full well

That elsewhere lies my destiny, not here.

Although my uncle’s will is that I stay,

My heart within me bursts to think on it

For out among the spheres I wish to roam—

Adventure and rebellion stir my blood.

Those oft-repeated words of my mate Biggs

I do believe—that all the world’s a star.

Beyond that heav’nly light I shall fly far!

[Exit.