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?Yoda’Tis time for my rest.Time for my sleep eternal,’Tis no time for truth.LukeThou wouldst protect me from this knowledge, whichMay difficult and painful be. In thisThou showest care for me, and hast my thanks—But Yoda, full of heart, I must needs know.Yoda[ 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? UnforeseenThis is. Distressing.LukeDistressing that at length I learn the truth?YodaNay, nay! DistressingThat 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.LukeForgive me, for I knew not what I did.YodaRemember, my Luke,A Jedi’s strength from the ForceDoth come. But beware.Anger, fear, hatred—From the dark side they all come;Its minions they are.Once thou hast enter’dIn the dark path infernal,Abandon all hope.The powers of theEmperor, thou shouldst neverUnderestimate.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 shaltThou be, thou alone.Attend, Luke! The ForceIs strong with thy family:Pass on what thou learn’dst.These final words nowWith my last breath I utter:O hear well, brave Luke.This is our hope: thereIs another Skywalker.The rest silence is.